"Perhaps your father will make you."
"No, my father can make me do nothing I have not set my heart on. And when it comes to the point, I'll defy my father."
"That is wrong."
"No, it isn't. I have to live with my husband, whoever he may be, and I have a right to choose him for myself. I choose Neil."
"Humph!" murmured Jennie, shaking her rough head. "You say that now while all is smooth; but if trouble came, and the Master was proved to be an ineligible parti, you would your mind."
"You shall see. Besides, what trouble could come?"
"I merely suggest it. Trouble might come, you know. Life is not entirely sunshine; clouds will arise. Well, when they do, we shall see if you really love the Master. At present it is merely a girl's fancy."
"Why do you talk to me as if you were a grandmother?" cried Ruth, half offended.
"I am young a years but old in experience," said Miss Brawn, with a sigh. "We are nine in our family, and father, as a Civil Service clerk, has only a small income. I have a lot of trouble to make both ends meet, with no mother to help. They all rely on my brain and my fingers, and the responsibility makes me sober."
"Poor dear," said Ruth, kissing the freckled cheek. "I wonder you write poetry with all your anxieties."