The tone of resignation was too marked. Jasper was not good as a comedian; he lacked subtlety.
‘We must wait,’ fell from Marian’s lips, in the whisper of despair.
‘Wait? But how long?’ he inquired, dispassionately.
‘Do you wish to be freed from your engagement, Jasper?’
He was not strong enough to reply with a plain ‘Yes,’ and so have done with his perplexities. He feared the girl’s face, and he feared his own subsequent emotions.
‘Don’t talk in that way, Marian. The question is simply this: Are we to wait a year, or are we to wait five years? In a year’s time, I shall probably be able to have a small house somewhere out in the suburbs. If we are married then, I shall be happy enough with so good a wife, but my career will take a different shape. I shall just throw overboard certain of my ambitions, and work steadily on at earning a livelihood. If we wait five years, I may perhaps have obtained an editorship, and in that case I should of course have all sorts of better things to offer you.’
‘But, dear, why shouldn’t you get an editorship all the same if you are married?’
‘I have explained to you several times that success of that kind is not compatible with a small house in the suburbs and all the ties of a narrow income. As a bachelor, I can go about freely, make acquaintances, dine at people’s houses, perhaps entertain a useful friend now and then—and so on. It is not merit that succeeds in my line; it is merit plus opportunity. Marrying now, I cut myself off from opportunity, that’s all.’
She kept silence.
‘Decide my fate for me, Marian,’ he pursued, magnanimously. ‘Let us make up our minds and do what we decide to do. Indeed, it doesn’t concern me so much as yourself. Are you content to lead a simple, unambitious life? Or should you prefer your husband to be a man of some distinction?’