"But thou art no princess, child."
"And, therefore, am unfit to mate with this prince. I could not answer him at once, father. It was too sudden for me to find the words. And the place was hardly fitting. But I have found them now."
"What words, my child?"
"I will tell him with all respect and deference,—nay, I will tell him with some love, for I do love him,—that it will become him to look for his wife elsewhere."
"Marion," said the Quaker, who was somewhat moved by those things which had altogether failed with the girl herself; "Marion, must it be so?"
"Father, it must certainly be so."
"And yet thou lovest him?"
"Though I were dying for his love it must be so."
"Why, my child, why? As far as I saw the young man he is good and gracious, of great promise, and like to be true-hearted."
"Good, and gracious, and true-hearted! Oh, yes! And would you have it that I should bring such a one as that to sorrow,—perhaps to disgrace?"