“And there’s a fortune remarked Barney Bill.

“What do you mean?” Paul swung round sharply.

“Yer father’s fortune, sonny.  Who do yer suppose he was a-going to leave it to?  ’Omes for lost ’orses or Free Zionists?  I don’t know as ’ow I oughter talk of it, him not buried yet—­but I seed his will when he made it a month or two ago, and barring certair legacies to Free Zionists and such-like lunatic folk, not to speak of Jane ere being left comfortably off, you’re the residuary legatee, sonny—­ with something like a hundred thousand pounds.  There’s no talk of earning bread-and-butter, sonny.”

“It never entered my head,” said Paul, rather dazed.  “I suppose a father would leave his money to his son.  I didn’t realize it.”  He passed his hand over his eyes.  “So many things have happened to-night.  Anyhow,” he said, smiling queerly, in his effort to still a whirling brain, “if there are no anxieties as to ways and means, so much the better for Jane and me.  I am all the more justified in asking you to marry me.  Will you?”

“Before I answer you, Paul dear,” she replied steadily, “you must answer me.  I’ve known about the will, just like Bill, all the time—­”

“She has that,” confirmed the old man.

“So this isn’t news to me, dear, and can’t alter anything from me to you.”

“Why should it?” asked Paul.  “But it makes my claim a little stronger.”

“Oh, no,” she replied, shaking her head.  “It only—­only confuses issues.  Money has nothing to do with what I’m going to ask you.  You said to-night you were going to live for the Truth—­the real naked Truth.  Now, Paul dear, I want the real, naked Truth.  Do you love that woman?”

At her question she seemed to have grown from the common sense, clear-eyed Jane into a great and commanding presence.  She had drawn herself to her full height.  Her chin was in the air, her generous bust thrown forward, her figure imperious, her eyes intense.  And Paul too drew himself up and looked at her in his new manhood.  And they stood thus for a while, beloved enemies.

“If you want the Truth—­yes, I do love her,” said he.

“Then how dare you ask me to be your wife?”

“Because the one is nonsensical and illusory and the other is real and practical.”

She flashed out angrily:  “Do you suppose I can live my woman’s life on the real and practical?  What kind of woman do you take me for?  An Amelia, a Patient Griselda, a tabby cat?”

Paul said:  “You know very well; I take you for one of the greatest-hearted of women.  I’ve already said it to-night.”