“It 's not very hard to understand, Tony,” said she, gravely. “Mr. M'Gruder sees that Dolly Stewart could not have given him her love and affection as a man's wife ought to give, and he would be ashamed to take her without it.”
“But why could n't she? Sam seems to have a sort of suspicion as to the reason, and I cannot guess it.”
“If he does suspect, he has the nice feeling of a man of honor, and sees that it is not for one placed as he is to question it.”
“If any man were to say to me, 'Read that letter, and tell me what does it infer,' I'd say the writer thought that the girl he wanted to marry liked some else.”
“Well, there's one point placed beyond an inference, Tony; the engagement is ended, and she is free.”
“I suppose she is very happy at it.”
“Poor Dolly has little heart for happiness just now. It was a little before dinner a note came from the doctor to say that all the friends he had consulted advised him to go out, and were ready and willing to assist him in every way to make the journey. As January is the stormy month in these seas, they all recommended his sailing as soon as he possibly could; and the poor man says very feelingly, 'To-morrow, mayhap, will be my farewell sermon to those who have sat under me eight-and-forty years.'”
“Why did you not make some proposal like what I spoke of, mother?” asked he, almost peevishly.
“I tried to do it, Tony, but he would n't hear of it. He has a pride of his own that is very dangerous to wound, and he stopped me at once, saying, 'I hope I mistake your meaning; but lest I should not, say no more of this for the sake of our old friendship.'”
“I call such pride downright want of feeling. It is neither more nor less than consummate selfishness.”