“At any rate, your father wouldn’t consent to our marriage, and you wouldn’t be willing to wed me without his permission.”
The young woman lifted her head. Her face brightened, paying her hand caressingly upon his knee, she murmured faintly:
“Father wouldn’t oppose our marriage, Ross, if you would quit your roving ways, give up your Indian friends and rough associates, and settle down to work. He thinks you shiftless—that you wouldn’t provide well for me—would never accumulate anything.”
Douglas’s handsome face flushed hotly as he asked:
“Is that all the reason your father had for ordering me from his door and forbidding me to speak to you?”
She was silent for a moment. Then she replied hesitatingly:
“Y-e-s—the main reason.”
“And the others?”
His voice was hard and cold. She dropped her lids, but did not answer.