"I'm sure I don't want to," replied the harassed girl, who looked worn and thin. "The place is getting on my nerves. I'll marry you as soon as you like, dear, and then we can go away. But this morning"—she hesitated—"I received a letter from my father's relatives. They ask me to come to them."
"What will you do?" asked Cyril gravely.
"Write and say that I am marrying you and intend to go abroad."
"But, Bella, if you reside with your relatives you may be able to make a much better match."
"Yes," said Bella with a grimace. "I might marry a Quaker. No, dear, I intend to stay with you and marry you. I have done without my relatives for all this time, and I hope to continue doing without them."
"Bella! Bella! I have nothing to offer you."
"Yourself, dear. That is all I want."
"A stupid gift on my part," said Cyril, looking ruefully in a near mirror at his face, which was now lean and haggard. "You have the money, and also the sympathy of the public. I can offer you nothing but a dishonoured name."
"Oh, nonsense!" she said vigorously. "I won't have you talk in that way. Why, one of the newspapers referred to your father as a pioneer of Empire."
Sad as he was Cyril could not help smiling. "That is just like my father's good luck," he exclaimed; "alive or dead, everything comes to him. I expect his shady doings will be overlooked, and——"