She paused, dubiously, and her brown skin reddened a little.
"You think so? Yes, he may," she answered in a troubled voice; for she feared her father, more even than she was conscious of.
"I think he does," Gore said, not watching the poor girl's troubled face.
"He wants me to marry you?" she inquired anxiously.
"I am afraid so; ever since he made up his mind. I do not think he liked the idea of letting you marry me till long after he saw what I hoped for. You see, I began to hope for it from the very first—from the day when we first met, by the river. He did not like me then; he did not know whether to approve of me or not. And at first he was inclined to approve all the less because he saw I wanted to win you for myself. I don't know that he likes me much even now; but he approves, and he approves of my plan. You know that once he has made up his mind to approve a plan, he likes it more and more. He gets determined and obstinate about it."
"Yes. He will be angry."
"I am afraid so. But—it is because he thinks it a father's duty to arrange for his daughter's future, and this plan suited him."
"Oh, yes! I know he is a good man. He will feel he is right in being angry."
"But I don't. He will be wrong. Though he is your father, he has not the right to try and force you to do what you say is impossible."
"Yes," she said gently, "it is impossible. But I shall not be able to make him see that."