"What has that to do with it?"
"You believe what she says? If so why should you not accept him?"
"Because I can't," said Ayala.
"Have you any idea what is to become of your future life?" said Mrs. Dosett, very gravely.
"Not in the least," said Ayala. But that was a fib, because she had an idea that in the fullness of time it would be her heavenly fate to put her hand into that of the Angel of Light.
"Gentlemen won't come running after you always, my dear."
This was almost as bad as being told by her Aunt Emmeline that she had encouraged her cousin Tom. "It's a great shame to say that. I don't want anybody to run after me. I never did."
"No, my dear; no. I don't think that you ever did." Mrs. Dosett, who was justice itself, did acknowledge to herself that of any such fault as that suggested, Ayala was innocent. Her fault was quite in the other direction, and consisted of an unwillingness to settle herself and to free her relations of the burden of maintaining her when proper opportunities arose for doing so. "I only want to explain to you that people must,—must,—must make their hay while the sun shines. You are young now."
"I am not one-and-twenty yet," said Ayala, proudly.
"One-and-twenty is a very good time for a girl to marry,—that is to say if a proper sort of gentleman asks her."