"Do you mean that she can never feel sure of the justice of her
title to her riches? That used to trouble me; but it no longer does
so."
"Nonsense!" said Lucian. "I alluded to the disinterestedness of your
friends."
"That does not trouble me either. Absolutely disinterested friends I
do not seek, as I should only find them among idiots or
somnambulists. As to those whose interests are base, they do not
know how to conceal their motives from me. For the rest, I am not so
unreasonable as to object to a fair account being taken of my wealth
in estimating the value of my friendship."
"Do you not believe in the existence of persons who would like you
just as well if you were poor?"
"Such persons would, merely to bring me nearer to themselves, wish
me to become poor; for which I should not thank them. I set great
store by the esteem my riches command, Lucian. It is the only
set-off I have against the envy they inspire."
"Then you would refuse to believe in the disinterestedness of any
man who--who--"
"Who wanted to marry me? On the contrary: I should be the last
person to believe that a man could prefer my money to myself. If he
wore independent, and in a fair way to keep his place in the world
without my help, I should despise him if he hesitated to approach me
for fear of misconstruction. I do not think a man is ever thoroughly
honest until he is superior to that fear. But if he had no
profession, no money, and no aim except to live at my expense, then
I should regard him as an adventurer, and treat him as one--unless I
fell in love with him."
"Unless you fell in love with him!"
"That--assuming that such things really happen--would make a
difference in my feeling, but none in my conduct. I would not marry
an adventurer under any circumstances. I could cure myself of a
misdirected passion, but not of a bad husband."
Lucian said nothing; he walked on with long, irregular steps,
lowering at the pavement as if it were a difficult problem, and
occasionally thrusting at it with his stick. At last he looked up,
and said, "Would you mind prolonging your walk a little by going round Bedford
Square with me? I have something particular to say."
She turned and complied without a word; and they had traversed one
side of the square before he spoke again, in these terms: "On second thoughts, Lydia, this is neither the proper time nor
place for an important communication. Excuse me for having taken you
out of your way for nothing."