As she stood with her back against the table she gripped the edge of it tightly.
“I guess it is, Hughie. I’ve thought it all out and it seems best.”
“I can’t—I won’t believe you mean that!” he exclaimed, passionately.
“But I do. There are many reasons why I can’t leave here and do as you ask.”
“And,” incredulously, “the fact that we love each other doesn’t count?” He shook his head. “I must say I don’t understand. I didn’t know that you were so happy here—”
“Happy!” The color flooded her face as she cried fiercely, “Mostly it’s—hell!”
“I don’t comprehend at all.”
“In the first place, your world and mine are far apart—that girl you brought to the corrals made me see that clearer than ever before. I might, in time, adapt myself—I don’t know. I’m not ignorant of the things one can learn from books, and I’m not dull, but it would be an experiment, and if it failed it might be like that experience at the Prouty House on a larger scale. I would humiliate you and make you ashamed.” Then, looking at him searchingly, she added: “Tell me the truth, Hughie—haven’t you thought something of this yourself?”
“I realize, of course,” he admitted candidly, “that naturally there would be situations which would be difficult for you at first; but what of that? You’ll learn. You are more than intelligent—you have brains, and your instincts are right from first to last. I tell you I love you, and nothing else counts. I’m so sure of the result that I’m willing to risk the experiment.”
Her eyes, fixed upon him, shone with pride, and there was a note of exultation in her voice as she cried: