"No, no, no!" said she.
"But I say yes. Why should it be no? If there never should come a penny out of this property I will put a roof over your head, and will find you victuals and clothes respectably. Who will do better for you than that? And as for the fight, by Jove! I shall like it. You'll find they'll get nothing out of my hands till they have torn away my nails."
Here was a new phase in her life. Here was a man willing to marry her even though she had no assured fortune.
"Margaret," said he, pleading his cause again, "I have that love for you that I would take you though it was all gone, to the last farthing."
"It is all gone."
"Let that be as it may, we'll try it. But though it should be all gone, every shilling of it, still, will you be my wife?"
It was altogether a new phase, and one that was inexplicable to her. And this came from a man to whom she had once thought that she might bring herself to give her hand and her heart, and her money also. She did not doubt that if she took him at his word he would be good to her, and provide her with shelter, and food and raiment, as he had promised her. Her heart was softened towards him, and she forgot his gloves and his shining boots. But she could not bring herself to say that she would love him, and be his wife. It seemed to her now that she was under the guidance of her cousin, and that she was pledged to do nothing of which he would disapprove. He would not approve of her accepting the hand of a man who would be resolved to litigate this matter with him.
"It cannot be," she said. "I feel how generous you are, but it cannot be."
"And why shouldn't it be?"
"Oh, Mr Rubb, there are things one cannot explain."