“There is no such word as ‘cannot!’” returned Mrs. Crosbie, vigorously. “If I were in your place, Stuart, how differently I would act! You are wasting your life.”
Stuart walked back to the window.
“I will not give you a decided answer now, mother,” he said. “Give me two days to consider.”
“Willingly,” she agreed, “and weigh all things well. Remember, you will afford me the greatest happiness in life if you agree to this and to another wish.”
“To make you happy, mother, I would do much,” Stuart responded, raising her hand to his lips. “What is it?”
Mrs. Crosbie drew a long breath.
“That you will marry.”
“Marry!” repeated Stuart, dropping her hand, while his face grew white and his brow darkened. “That, mother, is impossible.”
“I have not spoken to you on this subject before, Stuart, though it has been one very near my heart. You have been troubled; but you are not my son if you have not pride sufficient to drown and wash away forever any trace of your trouble. It is not for a Crosbie to submit to insult and humiliation.”
“I submit to none!” retorted Stuart, in a quiet, clear voice.