Cruel! Cruel!
My heart almost stopped, and then raced on again. I couldn't speak. Father, his hand on mine, looked at me wistfully, entreatingly. I couldn't bear to have him look like that. Like a beggar. And yet, for a moment, I had absolutely no impulse of love toward him. He was a stranger to me, my own Father. It was impossible that it was his voice asking me to do this unthinkable thing.
"Mavis?"
"I can't," I said, in a whisper.
His hand loosened from mine. Dropped wearily to the bed,
"Very well, dearest," he said, "of course you shall do nothing against your will. I only thought...." he stopped, and then, "It seemed a solution," he finished.
He looked very tired. All my love for him came rushing back. I kissed him, and he held me close for an instant.
"Will you—think it over?" he asked slowly.
"Yes, Father," I said, and was rewarded by his old brilliant smile.
Once out of the room, I brushed past Sarah, hovering near the door, and went to my own room. There, lying on my bed, I "thought it over."