"No!" burst in Jefferson, "why should she? If my father is not man enough to do a simple act of justice without bartering a woman's happiness and his son's happiness, let him find comfort in his self-justification!"
Shirley, completely unnerved, made a move towards the door, unable longer to bear the strain she was under. She tottered as though she would fall. Ryder made a quick movement towards his son and took him by the arm. Pointing to Shirley he said in a low tone:
"You see how that girl pleads your cause for you! She loves you, my boy!" Jefferson started. "Yes, she does," pursued Ryder, Sr. "She's worth a thousand of the Rossmore woman. Make her your wife and I'll—"
"Make her my wife!" cried Jefferson joyously. He stared at his parent as if he thought he had suddenly been bereft of his senses.
"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.