"You have been awfully good to me."
Marget only smiled deprecation and affection, for her heart went out to this motherless, undisciplined girl, whom she respected, like a true Scot, because, although Kate had made her a friend, she was still a Carnegie; whom she loved, because, although Kate might be very provoking, she was honest to the core.
"To-day," Kate resumed, after a pause, and speaking with an unusual nervousness, "I want your advice on a serious matter, which I must decide, and which … concerns other people as well as myself. In fact, I would like to ask a question," and she paused to frame her case.
It was a just testimony to Marget Howe that Kate never thought of pledging her to secrecy, for there are people whom to suspect of dishonour is a sin.
"Suppose that a man … loved a woman, and that he was honourable, brave, gentle, true, in fact … a gentleman, and made her a proposal of marriage."
Marget was looking before her with calm, attentive face, never once glancing at Kate to supplement what was told.
"If … the girl accepted him, she would have a high position, and be rich, so that she could … save her … family from ruin, and keep … them in the house they loved."
Marget listened with earnest intelligence.
"She respects this man, and is grateful to him. She is certain that he would be … kind to her, and give her everything she wanted. And she thinks that he … would be happy."
Marget waited for the end.