She sat looking at him, blankly, "Not take David! Why, you surely didn't think that I would give up David?"
"My dear," said Lloyd Pryor, "you will either give him up, or you will give me up."
"And you don't care which!" she burst out passionately.
He gave her a deadly look. "I do care which."
And at that she blenched but clung doggedly to his promise. "You must marry me!"
"There is no must about it. I will. I have told you so. But I did not suppose it was necessary to make your giving up David a condition. Not that I mean to turn the young man out, I'm sure. Only, I decline to take him in. But, good Heavens, Helena," he added, in perfectly genuine astonishment, "it isn't possible that you seriously contemplated keeping him? Will you please consider the effect upon the domestic circle of a very natural reference on his part, to your brother? You might as well take your servants along with you—or your Old Chester doctor! Really, my dear Nelly," he ended banteringly, "I should have supposed that even you would have had more sense."
Helena grew slowly very white. She felt as if caught in a trap; and yet the amused surprise in Lloyd Pryor's face was honest enough, and perfectly friendly. "I cannot leave David here," she said faintly. And as terror and despair and dumb determination began to look out of her eyes, the man beside her grew gayly sympathetic.
"I perfectly understand how you feel, He is a nice little chap. But, of course, you see it would be impossible?"
"I can't give him up."
"I wouldn't," he said amiably. "You can go away from Old Chester—of course you must do that—and take him with you. And I will come and see you as often as I can."