“It is the business, the blessing of my life to be so. But, Justin, dear, I wish to ask you about Britomarte. You took care of her on the Desert Island. She saved your life in the sea fight. Ah, how my heart thrilled to the touch of that story. Now you are betrothed, I hope, and soon to marry? Oh, Justin, how cordially I would welcome her here as my sister, and how willingly resign my position as mistress of the house, in her favor. For the house is yours, you know, Justin, and as your wife it would be her right.”
Justin slowly shook his head, compressed his lips, and frowned.
“What do you mean by that, my brother?”
“There is no possibility of a marriage between Miss Conyers and myself,” he said.
“Justin!”
“You know what were Britomarte’s sentiments on the subject of marriage, or rather of the position of a woman in marriage. And now I have only to add that all which has happened to us has not been able to work a change in them.”
“Oh, Justin! I am so sorry!”
“So you see, my dear, there is no chance of your being superseded on the household throne, for since Britomarte will not be my wife, no other woman shall.”
“Oh Justin, what a pity. But if she will not be your wife, she shall be your sister and mine. She shall come here, and share my home and means.”
“She would never do that; she is much too proud to be dependent, even on those who love and honor her most.”