Jane rejoiced simply because she loved a poor man, and had riches that she could lay at his feet.
Great sums of money, vague and disturbing to her imagination when she was bidden hold them in trust for unknown people, gleamed and made music now that she could think of them as a gift of love.

By this way of thought she could escape from the confusion in which Michael's solemn appeal had left her.

Exalted by her great hope, calmed by the assurance of aid that would never fail her, she began to feel the beauty of the task to which she was summoned; the appalling responsibility became a high privilege now that it was to be shared with one in whose wisdom and strength she had measureless confidence.
She knew now what wealth meant; it was a great and glorious power, a source of blessings incalculable.

This power it would be hers to bestow, and no man more worthy than he who should receive it at her hands.
It was not without result that Jane had been so long a listener to the conversations between Michael and Kirkwood.

Defective as was her instruction in the ordinary sense, those evenings spent in the company of the two men had done much to refine her modes of thought.