Paul Montague of course had very much to say in answer to this.  Among the holy things which did exist to gild this every-day unholy world, love was the holiest.  It should be soiled by no falsehood, should know nothing of compromises, should admit no excuses, should make itself subject to no external circumstances.  If Fortune had been so kind to him as to give him her heart, poor as his claim might be, she could have no right to refuse him the assurance of her love.  And though his rival were an angel, he could have no shadow of a claim upon her,—­seeing that he had failed to win her heart.  It was very well said,—­at least so Hetta thought,—­and she made no attempt at argument against him.  But what was to...