“I have; for all that, I'm afraid. If I have bad luck, Helen will have to pay. I know she was willing to marry Charnock, but she was very young then and he was rich compared with me.”
“Then I suppose a little money would be a useful help?”
“It would, in one way,” Festing agreed. “The trouble is that I haven't much; only enough to make a fair start if I'm economical.”
For a moment Muriel looked amused, but her seriousness returned. “We'll let that go. You seem to forget that you don't stand alone. I should have found it hard to forgive Fred if he had decided whether he ought to marry or not, without consulting me. It's a girl's right, not her lover's, to say what she values most and how much she is willing to bear. If Helen loves you, she's entitled to be given the choice.”
“Ah,” said Festing, “I don't know if she loves me yet!”
Muriel's eyes twinkled. “That is something you must find out for yourself. But perhaps I have said enough.”
She went back to the house and Festing sat still in the gathering dark. He had made up his mind and felt encouraged, but he saw difficulties that must be met.
Next day he went to the Scar and found that Helen was not at home, but Mrs. Dalton and her sister received him, and for a time he talked about things that did not matter. It was dull and damp outside, and a bright wood fire burned in the grate. The low-ceilinged room was very warm, its comfort seemed enervating, and he felt braced as he thought of the windswept prairie. Then he knew his remarks were vague and disconnected. It was a relief to plunge into the business he had come about.
“I had better tell you that I am going to ask Helen to marry me,” he said.
Mrs. Dalton did not look surprised, and he thought Miss Graham smiled. Perhaps he had been abrupt, but he did not care.