“I’m sorry for you. You don’t know the trouble you’ll have.”
He was nettled, as she meant him to be. Her intention was to make him feel a fool, to show him the utter folly of Frankie’s ideas. He could not bring himself to tell her that Frankie had intended to keep her own position, he was ashamed of that. He felt that Minnie despised him, and he didn’t blame her.
He thrust his hands into his empty pockets, and silently cursed the universe—and Minnie. He hadn’t even money for his dinner. Not a sou. And no Frankie to advise him. He had a sudden terrible feeling of desolation.
“Oh, Lord!” he groaned.
“What is it?” asked Minnie.
“I suppose ... I haven’t any right to think of Frankie. I suppose—if I let her alone, she’ll forget me, and make a better match out there.”
Minnie knew what the matrimonial prospects were in Brownsville Landing; still she looked grave.
“One can never tell,” she said. “Still, Mr. Naylor, I certainly shouldn’t give up hope if I were you. I’d only think of the marriage as postponed. Until you’re doing—better.”
“That’s all very well. But to be on the point of marrying a girl like Frankie, and then to lose her, for an indefinite length of time—it’s not easy.”
“But she’s worth waiting for!” cried Minnie, like a good sister.