"No, Rachel, no; you must promise to tell me if you are persecuted in any way—if you are miserable in your aunt's house—and my sister Lily will take care of you. You are not to let the worst come to the worst—do you hear? You must let me know of anything that happens, and I will come at once and see about it. Oh, my poor little one, I begin to realise what sacrifices you will have to make for me! Will you think the game was worth the candle, I wonder, when you are as old as I am?"
"Yes," said Rachel; "I know I shall—if you will be as contented with me then as you are now."
"Do you really think you have counted the cost?" he persisted anxiously. "Remember, you were going to marry Mr. Kingston, because you thought it would be nice to be rich and to live in a grand house and to wear diamonds."
"That was before I had seen you. I don't want to be rich now. Indeed, I would rather not."
"Has anybody told you how poor I am?"
"Yes," she whispered, stealing a timid hand to his shoulder. "I have been thinking of it. Beatrice says it is a mistake for poor men to marry—that they cripple their career. But I hope—I think—I shall not be any burden to you. Once I was poor, too, and I know all about it, and I can manage with a very little. I think I could help you in lots of ways, and not be a hindrance."
"A hindrance, indeed!" he interrupted. "My darling, if I had you for my companion, life would be sweet enough for me, under any circumstances. It was your comfort and happiness I was thinking of."
"I only want to be with you," she said, under her breath. "I don't care where—I don't care how."
"Really, Rachel?"
"Really, indeed."