“That I love Jim Langley and I’m going to marry him.” She held her head high and her blush was triumphant.
“When?” asked Anthony.
“I don’t know—not for a year, perhaps, but sooner or later I’m—we’re—going to.”
Anthony twisted the wheel idly without starting his motor.
“Well—there’s nothing I can do about it except to wish you joy. Langley’s all right—and if you are sure you love him, it’s all right. But don’t let the work deceive you. That’ll stop after you are married and the glamour——”
“No, indeed, I shall work right along—right along—that’s our whole idea.”
Anthony did not look impressed. He started the car and drove on silently. Then——
“Look here, Horatia, I know you’ll damn me for a reactionary, but I want to say a few things. I ought to go away and leave you alone but I don’t want to. I can’t exactly admit Langley as a rival on the strength of what you say. You see what I want to give you is something very different. I want you to marry me and to—to organize our lives, but I want to assume the rough steady work and I want you to be relieved of strain.” She flushed and he went quickly on. “I’ve seen a lot of this radical married stuff, your own name business, this both earning business, and I’ve never seen it lead anywhere yet. And—wait. I’ve seen a lot of the other kind—the awfully domestic, submerged woman. I never in my life wanted to marry until I saw you. It always looked like a trap. But with you marriage would be a wonderful game—a limitless voyage, an endless happiness. I don’t want you to work or wear yourself out as the women on newspapers do wear out. I want you to be strong and fine and happy. I want to see the world with you—and to plan a big useful life with you—to do big things largely. I can’t say it, Horatia, because I’m an ass. But I love you and I want to fight for you.”
There were tears in Horatia’s eyes.
“I wish I did love you, Anthony,” she cried. “I like you awfully. But, Anthony, Jim is written all over my heart. I tremble when he’s near me.”