"He didn't ask me till this afternoon, and, of course, it took me by surprise, and I said so, but he urged me so much that I finally consented."
"You don't love him, mother? I am sure you can't love such a man as that."
"I never shall love any one again in that way, Frank—never any one like your poor father."
"Then why do you marry him?"
"He doesn't ask me to love him. But he can relieve me of a great many cares and look after you."
"I don't want anybody to look after me, mother—that is, anybody but you. I hate Mr. Craven!"
"Now that is wrong, Frank. He speaks very kindly of you—very kindly indeed. He says he takes a great interest in you."
"I am sorry I cannot return the interest he professes. I dislike him, and I always have. I hope you won't be angry, mother, if I tell you just what I think of him. I think he's after your property, and that is what made him offer himself. He is poor as poverty, though I don't care half so much for that as I do for other things."
"No, Frank; you are mistaken there," said credulous Mrs. Hunter, eagerly. "He is not poor."