“That’s just it. I don’t know why not. Sometimes I think it’s just because I don’t want to be made to do a thing, whether I choose or not. And then sometimes,——”
“Well?”
“Sometimes I think I don’t love Phil enough to marry him. He’s a dear, and he’s awfully kind and generous and good. And he adores me,—but I don’t feel—say, Nan, were you terribly in love with father when you married him?”
“I was, Patty. And I still am.”
“Yes, I know you are now. But were you before the wedding day?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I’m not terribly in love with Phil. But he says that will come after we’re married. Will it, Nan?”
“It’s hard to advise you, Patty. I daren’t say the greater love will come to you,—for I don’t know. But don’t marry him unless you are sure he is the only man in the world you can love.”
“I’ve got to marry him,” said Patty, simply; “I promised.”