"So you really give me up?" cried he in anger.
She bowed her head.
"For both our sakes I give you up."
"You never really cared for me!"
"I did—I do. You are the only man I ever loved; but I cannot blind myself even so. If you had only a small income I would marry you; or if you had a strong will or a clever brain I would marry you. But, Gerald, dear Gerald, you know you have neither. You are the dearest fellow in the world; yes, and the handsomest, and the nicest, but—but without an income! No, dear, it would never do. We should grow to hate each other in no time. Take my advice: marry a rich woman, and you will be happy."
He looked at her for a moment, and tried to speak. Then his fury overcame him, and he grew scarlet in the face and inarticulate. Alarmed at his violence Hilda ran out of the room. As she opened the door her father appeared.
"Arkel, Arkel, what is this?" he said. "Control yourself, man, control yourself."
Gerald staggered forward and clutched the doctor's arm. Again he tried to speak, but failed to articulate a word. Then, with a pitiable cry, he fell senseless to the floor.
"Ah," said the doctor, bending over him with professional calm, "even were you rich as Crœsus, you are not the husband for my child."
"What is it?" cried Mrs. Marsh coming on the scene.