“You’re big enough, but you’ve got about as much of the ‘caveman’ temperament as a kitten!”
Farnsworth laughed, well knowing that the soft, gentle personality of the girl he loved would never be cowed or coerced by his will. He knew he could persuade her through love, where harsher means would be useless.
Big Bill Farnsworth perfectly understood Patty’s nature, and her little inconsistencies and whimsicalities bothered him not a whit.
He was most desirous to take her to France with him, but he knew too, that her commonsense view of that matter was the right one. He knew that, even were he allowed to take a wife with him, there would be many rude experiences, even dangers, which Patty must face, and yet he shrank from the thought of leaving her for an indefinite, perhaps for a very long time.
Farnsworth went on to Springfield with the question still unsettled.
At least, to his satisfaction, Patty declared that it was settled. She bravely accepted the fact of his necessary absence because it was his duty to his country, and Patty was patriotic first, last and all the time.
“Don’t you care?” asked Helen, curiously; “what are you made of, Patty, that you can let him go?”
Patty’s eyes filled with tears.
“I suppose it does look strange to you, Bumble,” she said; “but you don’t understand, dear. I know Billee would do better work and get along with less care and anxiety without me than with me. I know I should be a hindrance and I daren’t go. I mustn’t put a straw in the way of his splendid career,—I mustn’t be the least mite of a millstone about his neck. It is because my love for him is so complete, so all-enveloping,—that I know I must sacrifice myself to it—and to him.”
“But, Patty, he’ll think you don’t want to go.”