Chapter I. The Lovers

"I am very angry," pouted the maid.

"In heaven‘s name, why?" questioned the bachelor.

"You have, so to speak, bought me."

"Impossible: your price is prohibitive."

"Indeed, when a thousand pounds - "

"You are worth fifty and a hundred times as much. Pooh!"

"That interjection doesn‘t answer my question."

"I don‘t think it is one which needs answering," said the young man lightly； "there are more important things to talk about than pounds, shillings, and sordid pence."

"Oh, indeed! Such as - "

"Love, on a day such as this is. Look at the sky, blue as your eyes； at the sunshine, golden as your hair."

"Warm as your affection, you should say."

"Affection! So cold a word, when I love you."

"To the extent of one thousand pounds."

"Lucy, you are a - woman. That money did not buy your love, but the consent of your stepfather to our marriage. Had I not humored his whim, he would have insist

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