"Not now, perhaps. But we have both time before us, and we can wait a little while"; he looked at her intently. "I shall conquer in the end. I know that."
"It is probable," said Mrs. Greatorex, in quite a liberal sort of spirit. "But in the meantime you condemn the girl you profess to love to certain privations!"
"I don't believe in marriages where love is left out," said he.
"But you do believe in love where a girl delicately nurtured is exposed to absolute poverty! So you think that to wilfully destroy a girl's chance in life means love?"
"A girl's chance! There is but one chance for any soul living, man or woman," said Dillwyn; "and that is to follow the straight road—the dictates of his or her own conscience. Why should Agatha diverge from it? Why should she sell all that is most dear to her—herself—her mind—all—for mere dross?"
"I am to believe, then," said Mrs. Greatorex, "that you have made up your mind to drag Agatha down with you into the abyss of poverty. Have you thought of the selfishness of that?"
"I hope it will not be poverty," said Dillwyn slowly.
Mrs. Greatorex's brow grew dark.
"Agatha, come here!" said she, in a tone of extreme anger. But Agatha did not stir. She was evidently very comfortable were she was, and her sweet proximity strengthened Dillwyn.
"She is is mine," said he; "I claim her. Mrs. Greatorex, why would you part us?"