"I mean as to this world. Of what may come afterwards to one so little known we here can hardly dare to speak,—or even to think. But a girl, when she has been asked to marry a man, is bound to think of his welfare in this life."
"I cannot but think of his eternal welfare also," said Marion.
"Unequal marriages are always unhappy," said Mrs. Roden, repeating her great argument.
"Always?"
"I fear so. Could you be happy if his great friends, his father, and his stepmother, and all those high-born lords and ladies who are connected with him,—could you be happy if they frowned on you?"
"What would their frowns be to me? If he smiled I should be happy. If the world were light and bright to him, it would certainly be light and bright to me."
"I thought so once, Marion. I argued with myself once just as you are arguing now."
"Nay, Mrs. Roden, I am hardly arguing."
"It was just so that I spoke to myself, saying that the joy which I took in a man's love would certainly be enough for my happiness. But oh, alas! I fell to the ground. I will tell you now more of myself than I have told any one for many a year, more even than I have told George. I will tell you because I know that I can trust your faith."
"Yes; you can trust me," said Marion.