"You did have the gall!"
"Then you think they'll never, never accept me?"
"Not that way; not beforehand."
Hot rage rose within me, against him and them and this scorn of my personality.
"I think they will."
"Not on your life! Dad wouldn't do it, not if I was on my death-bed and needed you to come and raise me up. Milly is the only one; and even she thinks I'm the craziest idiot—"
"Very well, then, Hugh," I said, quickly; "I'm afraid we must consider it all—"
He gathered me into his arms as he had done before, and once more stopped my protests. Once more, too, I yielded to this masculine argument.
"For you and me there's nothing but love," he murmured, with his cheek pressed close against mine.
"Oh no, Hugh," I managed to say, when I had struggled free. "There's honor—and perhaps there's pride." It gave some relief to what I conceived of as the humiliation he unconsciously heaped on me to be able to add: "As a matter of fact, pride and honor, in me, are as inseparable as the oxygen and hydrogen that go to make up water."