"Why of course;—except that it is evident to you as it is to me that she could not with propriety say anything else."
"I think she would,—would like it, you know."
"She would like to be your wife!"
"Well;—yes. If it were all serene, I think she would consent."
"I dare say she would consent,—if it were all serene. Why should she not? Do not try her too hard, Lord Silverbridge. You say you love her."
"I do, indeed."
"Then think of the position in which you are placing her. You are struggling to win her heart." Silverbridge as he heard this assured himself that there was no need for any further struggling in that direction. "Perhaps you have won it. Yet she may feel that she cannot become your wife. She may well say to herself that this which is offered to her is so great, that she does not know how to refuse it; and may yet have to say, at the same time, that she cannot accept it without disgrace. You would not put one that you love into such a position?"
"As for disgrace,—that is nonsense. I beg your pardon, Mr. Boncassen."
"Would it be no disgrace that she should be known here, in England, to be your wife, and that none of those of your rank,—of what would then be her own rank,—should welcome her into her new world?"
"That would be out of the question."