“I hope so, Nora,—heart and soul.”
“Yes; that is what I mean. Whatever is my husband’s country must be mine. And you know how well I love your country; do you not? I never run away when you talk to me about Philadelphia,—do I? And you know how I admire all your institutions,—my institutions, as they will be.”
“Now I know you’re going to ask some very great favour.”
“Yes, I am; and I don’t mean to be refused, Master Fred. I’m to be an American almost to-morrow, but as yet I am an Englishwoman, and I am bound to do what little I can before I leave my country. Don’t you think so?”
“I don’t quite understand.”
“Well, it’s about my wedding-clothes. It does seem stupid talking about them, I know. But I want you to let me do without them altogether. Now you’ve got the plain truth. I want to give Uncle Robert the money for his soup-kitchen, and to be married just as I am now. I do not care one straw what any other creature in the world may say about it, so long as I do not displease you.”
“I think it’s nonsense, Nora.”
“Oh, Fred, don’t say so. I have set my heart upon it. I’ll do anything for you afterwards. Indeed, for the matter of that, I’d do anything on earth for you, whether you agree or whether you do not. You know that.”
“But, Nora, you wouldn’t wish to make yourself appear foolish? How much money will you save?”
“Very nearly twenty pounds altogether.”