And that Mr. Mallow isn't, sir."
"He will be when Lord Caranby dies," said Jennings, hardly
knowing what to say, "and fiction isn't truth. Besides, Mr.
Mallow is engaged."
"I know, sir--to Miss Saxon. Well," poor Susan sighed, "she
is a sweet young lady. I suppose he loves her."
"Devotedly. He will be married soon."
"And she's got Miss Loach's money too," sighed Susan again,
"what a lucky young lady. Handsome looks in a husband and
gold galore. A poor servant like me has to look on and keep
her heart up with the Church Service. But I tell you what,
sir," she added, drying her eyes and apparently becoming
resigned, "if I ain't a lady, Senora Gredos is, and she won't
let Mr. Mallow marry Miss Saxon."
"But Mr. Mallow is not in love with Senora Gredos."
"Perhaps not, sir, but she's in love with him. Yes. You may
look and look, Mr. Jennings, but lame as she is and weak in
the back and unable to move from that couch, she loves him.
She had that photograph in her room and kissed it, as it I saw
with my own eyes. I took it the last thing before I went, as
I loved Mr. Mallow too, and I was not going to let that
Spanish lady kiss him even in a picture."
"Upon my word," murmured Jennings, taken aback by this
vehemence, "it is very strange all this."
"Oh, yes, you gentlemen don't think a poor girl has a heart.
I couldn't help falling in love, though he never looked my
way. But that Miss Saxon is a sweet, kind, young lady put
upon by her mother, I wouldn't give him up even to her.
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