me, "I think I ought to tell you I 'm looking!" It was Adrian Frank, who had recognized me at a distance, and, without my hearing him, had walked across the grass to where I sat. This time I could n't leave him, for I had n't finished my sketch. He sat down near me, on an artistically-preserved rock, and we ended by having a good deal of talk in which, however, I did the listening, for I can't express myself in two ways at once. What I listened to was this—that Mr. Caliph wishes his step-brother to "make up" to Eunice, and that the candid Adrian wishes to know what I think of his chances.
"Are you in love with her?" I asked.
"Oh dear, no! If I were in love with her I should go straight in, without—without this sort of thing."
"You mean without asking people's opinion?"
"Well, yes. Without asking even yours."
I told him that he need n't say "even" mine; for mine would not be worth much. His announcement rather startled me at first, but after I had thought of it a little, I found in it a good deal to admire. I have seen so many "arranged" marriages that have been happy, and so many "sympathetic" unions that have been wretched, that the political element does n't altogether shock me. Of course I can't imagine Eunice making a political marriage, and I said to Mr. Frank, very promptly, that she might consent if she could be induced to love him, but would never be governed in her choice by his advantages. I said
