"Well, let us admit she has character, but she certainly has no experience. In the world, she is exposed to much trouble and, perhaps, may be, to temptation. Since her position is the fault of her father, and she is entirely innocent, I want her to have a happy life. For that reason I wish her to marry you."
Paul bowed, not believing a word of this philanthropic speech. "Again, I say it is good of you," said he with some irony; "but even were I out of the way, her nurse, Deborah Tawsey, would look after her. As matters stand, however, she will certainly become my wife as soon as we can afford a home."
"You can afford it to-morrow," said Mrs. Krill, eagerly, "if you will accept my offer."
"A home in America," said Paul, "and why?"
"I should think both of you would like to be away from a place where you have seen such a tragedy."
"Indeed." Paul committed himself to no opinion. "And, supposing we accept your offer, which I admit is a generous one, you suggest we should go to the States."
"Or to Canada, or Australia, or—in fact—you can go anywhere, so long as you leave England. I tell you, Mr. Beecot, even at the risk of hurting your feelings, that I want that girl away from London. My husband treated me very badly—he was a brute always—and I hate to have that girl before my eyes."
"Yet she is innocent."
"Have I not said that a dozen times," rejoined Mrs. Krill, impatiently. "What is the use of further discussion. Do you accept my offer?"
"I will convey it to Miss Norman. It is for her to decide."