Chris did not want to be unkind, but she shook her head decidedly.
“Oh, Mr. Bradfield, what do you want to ask me for? I couldn’t help seeing you were going to, you know, and I’ve been trying to put off the e—I mean, I’ve been trying to stave it off. I wanted you to see it was no use, and that’s one of the reasons why I wanted to go away and be a hospital nurse. So it isn’t my fault, really.”
“No, it’s my misfortune,” said Mr. Bradfield, shortly. “But I think you’re very silly.”
“Yes, and my mother will think so too, that’s the worst of it,” said Chris, ruefully.
“And don’t you think the opinion of two people like your mother and me is worth more than yours?” asked Mr. Bradfield, good-humouredly.
Chris, though she was glad that he was not angry, did not like the way in which he took her refusal. For he treated it as a joke, as a matter of no consequence, and he stood very close to her, and stared at her, as she told her mother afterwards, in a way she did not like. This manner of receiving her answer piqued her, while it perhaps frightened her a little.
“I think my opinion is worth the most,” she answered, with the colour rising in her cheeks, “for I can act upon mine, while you can’t act upon yours.”
Mr. Bradfield drew back a little way, amused, surprised, and pleased at her spirit.
“You’re not afraid of being married against your will, then?”