She looked at him.
“I am considering yours,” she said. “That is what I consider most of all. And, as for uncle, I know—I KNOW he would never consent. His heart is set on something else. Nat—”
“Nat? Are you considering him, too? Is HE to stand between us? What right has he to say—”
“Hush! hush! He hasn't said anything. But—but he and uncle have quarreled, just a little. I didn't tell you, but they have. And I think I know the reason. Nat is Uncle Eben's idol. If the quarrel should grow more serious, I believe it would break his heart. I couldn't bear to be the cause of that; I should never forgive myself.”
“You the cause? How could you be the cause of a quarrel between those two? Grace, think of me.”
Here was the selfishness of man and the unselfishness of woman answered.
“John,” she said, “it is of you I am thinking. Everything else could—might be overcome, perhaps. But I must think of your future and your life. I MUST. That is why—”
He did not wait to hear more. He seized her in his arms and kissed her.
“Then you DO care!” he cried joyfully. “You will marry me?”
For an instant she lay quiet in his embrace, receiving, if not responding to his caresses. Then she gently but firmly freed herself. He saw that there were tears in her eyes.