“First, to demand on what grounds you condemned me as a ‘devilish beauty?’ and why you assume that I should not be faithful to Robert for a year?”
“I am rather a good judge of character,” he said.
“You cannot be—or you would see that whatever accident makes me have this objectionable outside, the me that lives within is an honest person who never breaks her word.”
“I can only see red hair and green eyes, and a general look of the devil.”
“Would you wish people always to judge by appearances then?” I said. “Because, if so, I see before me a prejudiced, narrow-minded, cruel-tempered, cynical man, jealous of youth’s joys. But I would not be so unjust as to stamp you with these qualities because of that!”
He looked straight at me, startled. “I may be all those things,” he said. “You are probably right!”
“Then, oh, please don’t be!” I went on quickly. “I want you to be kind to us. We, oh, we do, do so wish to be happy, and we are both so young, and life will be so utterly blank and worthless for all these years to the end if you part us now.”
“I did not say I would part you,” he said, coldly. “I merely said I refused to give Robert any allowance, and I shall leave everything in my power away from the title. If you like to get married on those terms you are welcome to.”
Then I told him I loved Robert far too much to like the thought of spoiling his future.
“We came into each others lives,” I said. “We did not ask it of Fate, she pushed us there; and I tried not to speak to him because I had promised a friend of mine I would not, as she said she liked him herself, and it made us both dreadfully unhappy, and every day we mattered more to one another; until yesterday—when I thought he had gone away for good, and I was too miserable for words—we met in the Park, and it was no use pretending any longer. Oh! you can’t want to crush out all joy and life for us, just because I have red hair! It is so horribly unjust.”