"What does that mean? I don't follow you."
"Perhaps not, sir; but I quite follow you. You wish me to understand that, in spite of my deficiencies, you accept me as your son's wife—for the reason that you can't help yourself."
Two sharp hectic spots came out on each cheek-bone.
"Well, what if I do?"
"I'm far too generous to put you in that position. I couldn't take you at a disadvantage, not even for the sake of marrying Hugh."
I was not sure whether he was frightened or angry, but it was the one or the other.
"Do you mean to say that, now—now that I'm ready—"
"That I'm not? Yes, sir. That's what I do mean to say. I told you once that if I loved a man I shouldn't stop to consider the wishes of his relatives; but I've repented of that. I see now that marriage has a wider application than merely to individuals; and I'm not ready to enter any family that doesn't want me."
I looked off into the golden dimnesses of the hillside wood in order not to be a witness of the struggle he was making.
"And suppose"—it was almost a groan—"and suppose I said we—wanted you?"