“Are you really in earnest, Beatrice?” said he. “Do you really mean to put me to this test?”
“I never was more in earnest in my life,” said she. “Think over the matter—let me entreat of you to think over it,” he said, earnestly.
“And you will think over it also?”
“Yes, I will think over it. Oh, Beatrice, do not allow yourself to be carried away by this caprice. It is unworthy of you.”
“Do not be too hard on me, I am only a woman,” said she, very meekly.
She was only a woman. He felt that very strongly as he walked away.
And yet he had told Harold that he had great hope of Woman, by reason of her femininity.
And yet he had told Harold that he understood Woman and her motives.
“Papa,” said Beatrice, from the door of the historian’s study. “Papa, Mr. Edmund Airey has just been here to ask me to marry him.”
“That’s right, my dear,” said the great historian. “Marry him, or anyone else you please, only run away and play with your dolls now. I’m very busy.”