She gazed at him in intense astonishment. “Do you mean to say that my stock is worthless?” she inquired.
“I fear it is worth very little,” he answered. “Tom Pixley told me he believed that they were going to abandon the workings, and that the interest on the mortgage had not been paid for two years.”
“So you knew all along that I was poor?” she asked. “Then why did you ask me to marry you?”
John Stone looked at her for a moment in amazement, while his cheeks flamed. Then he rose to his feet and stood before her.
“Did you suppose that I wanted to marry you for your money?” he said, making an obvious effort for self-control.
“Yes,” she answered, lowering her eyes. “And that is why I was going to accept you.”
She felt that the man was still staring at her, wholly unable to understand.
“I am poor, very poor,” she went on, hurriedly. "I don’t know how I am going to live next month. I believed that you thought I was wealthy. It seemed to me a mean thing for a man to do, to marry a woman for her money, so I didn’t mind deceiving you.”
He stood silently gazing at her for a minute, and she could not but think that a man was very slow to understand.
Then he sat down again, and took her hand once more, and petted it.