“Make her my wife?” he repeated incredulously.
“Well, what do you say?” demanded Ryder, Sr.
The young man advanced towards Shirley, hands outstretched.
“Yes, yes, Shir—Miss Green, will you?” Seeing that Shirley made no sign, he said: “Not now, father; I will speak to her later.”
“No, no, to-night, at once!” insisted Ryder. Addressing Shirley, he went on: “Miss Green, my son is much affected by your disinterested appeal in his behalf. He—he—you can save him from himself—my son wishes you—he asks you to become his wife! Is it not so, Jefferson?”
“Yes, yes, my wife!” advancing again towards Shirley.
The girl shrank back in alarm.
“No, no, no, Mr. Ryder, I cannot, I cannot!” she cried.
“Why not?” demanded Ryder, Sr. appealingly. “Ah, don't—don't decide hastily—”