Then—“Why?” he asked again. “But why?”
She smiled faintly.
“I don’t know why—not altogether. It’s true that it’s partly pride, I suppose—I’m not sure. I do care for Lup, and I’d promised to marry him, but when his father put it all into plain words, spoke out and told me to fix the date, all the glamour went, somehow. He had it so cut and dried—I felt as if I were being sold. It meant no more to him than a change of stock at a May fair. I’d have had to say no if it had killed me. He meant all right—of course I know that—and it would have been right for most, but it wasn’t for me. They wouldn’t treat one of your class like that, would they? But that’s the way of mine, and I’d no right to resent it, I suppose, only I’ve been made over and differently in those long years at school. I couldn’t accept it as perhaps I ought to have done. It hurt something in me that I didn’t know was there, something that wouldn’t be touched. That was part of the reason, I think. Not all.”
“And the rest?” he asked, at last.
“The rest is Lup’s, sir. I can’t tell you that. I don’t see it clear myself, as I said. Put it at pride altogether, if you like.”
“What’s pride, if you care?” he argued. “Let that go by the board! You can, if you try. And the other thing, too, whatever it is. For Lup’s sake—for the old folks’ sake——”
“I can’t. I can’t.”
“You’ll not regret it.”
“I can’t—that’s all.”
“Well, I’m not here to marry you against your will!” he growled, aggrieved at the deadlock. “If you won’t, you won’t, and there’s an end of it. I’d not be so hard on you if I thought the change would mean getting Mrs. Whinnerah away altogether, but it seems that Wolf is set on taking the Pride.”