"Great attractions, no doubt—to me invisible," blurted the major.
Hester turned from him.
"I am going home," she said. "—Luncheon is at the usual hour."
"Just one word," cried he, hurrying after her. "I swear by the living God I have no purpose or hope in interfering but to save you from a miserable future. Promise me not to marry this man, and I will settle on you a thousand a year—safe. You shall have the principal down if you prefer."
Hester walked the faster.
"Hear me," he went on, in an agony of entreaty mingled with something like anger.
"I mean it," he continued. "Why should I not for Helen's child!"
He was a yard or two behind her. She turned on him with a glance of contempt. But the tears were in his eyes, and her heart smote her. He had abused her friend, but was plainly honest himself. Her countenance changed as she looked at him. He came up to her. She laid her hand on his arm, and said—
"Dear major Marvel, I will speak to you without anger. What would you think of one who took money to do the thing she ought to do? I will not ask you what you would think of one who took money to do the thing she ought not to do! I would not promise not to marry a beggar from the street. It might be disgraceful to marry the beggar; it must be disgraceful to promise not!"
"Yes, yes, my dear! you are quite right—absolutely right," said the major humbly. "I only wanted to make you independent. You don't think half enough of yourself.—But I will dare one more question before I give you up; is he going to ask you to marry him?"