Baron Hirsch:  “Why not?”

Margot:  “Because I have too many friends.”

Baron Hirsch:  “And enemies?”

Margot (thoughtfully):  “Perhaps. ...I don’t know about that.  I never notice whether people dislike me or not.  After all, you took a fancy to me the first time we met; why should not other people do the same?  Do you think I should not improve on acquaintance?”

Baron Hirsch:  “How can you doubt that, when I have just asked you to marry my son?”

Margot:  “What other English girl is there that you would like for a daughter-in-law?”

Baron Hirsch:  “Lady Katie Lambton,[Footnote:  The present Duchess of Leeds.] Durham’s sister.”

Margot:  “I don’t know her at all.  Is she like me?”

Baron Hirsch:  “Not in the least; but you and she are the only girls I have met that I could wish my son to marry.”

I longed to know what my rival was like, but all he could tell me was that she was lovely and clever and mignonne, to which I said: 

“But she sounds exactly like me!”

This made him laugh: 

“I don’t believe you know in the least what you are like,” he said.

Margot:  “You mean I have no idea how plain I am?  But what an odd man you are!  If I don’t know what I’m like, I am sure you can’t!  How do you know that I am not just the sort of adventuress you dread most?  I might marry your son and, so far from widening his interests, as you suggest, keep him busy with his coins while I went about everywhere, enjoying myself and spending all your money.  In spite of what you say, some man might fall in love with me, you know!  Some delightful, clever man.  And then Lucien’s happiness would be over.”

Baron Hirsch:  “I do not believe you would ever cheat your husband.”

Margot:  “You never can tell!  Would Lady Katie Lambton many for money?”

Baron Hirsch:  “To be perfectly honest with you, I don’t think she would.”

Margot:  “There you are!  I know heaps of girls who wouldn’t; anyhow, I never would!”

Baron Hirsch:  “You are in love with some one else, perhaps, are you?”

It so happened that in the winter I had fallen in love with a man out hunting and was counting the hours till I could meet him again, so the question annoyed me; I thought it vulgar and said, with some dignity: 

“If I am, I have never told him so.”

My dignity was lost, however, on my host, who persisted.  I did not want to give myself away, so, simulating a tone of light banter, I said: 

“If I have not confided in the person most interested, why should I tell you?” This was not one of my happiest efforts, for he instantly replied: 

“Then he is interested in you, is he?  Do I know him?”