"The sort of life I lead?"
"The ideals of your set, of the people who surround your aunt, of your aunt herself. The whole thing is barren."
"Are we more frivolous than the rest?" she asked suddenly.
"You are better than the rest," he said promptly. "That is why I want you to marry me. You were made for great interests—for a large scene."
"What are they—your great interests, your ideals?" she asked presently. "How are they so much better than ours?—though I don't know what ours may be."
"If you marry me, you will find out," he said. "Oh, you shall have them, I promise you that! I want you immensely, Mary! I am just going into public life, I mean to go far—and if I have your support, your sympathy, if you become my wife, I shall go much farther. And I want to take you away from all this littleness, and put you where you can be felt, where your character—I can't say how I admire it—may have scope."
"I am sorry," she said again; "you are very good, and you do me great honour: but I can only answer as before—it is not possible."
"Ah, but you give no reason!" he cried. "There is no reason."
"Is it not a good enough one that I do not love you?" said the girl.
"Only marry me," he persisted, "and that will come. I don't want to hurry you, you know. I would rather you would take time and consider; give me your answer in a week or two's time."