"Robert," she said, softly, "I'm not sure that Elizabeth will accept his sacrifice."
"What! Not accept it? Nonsense! Of course she'll accept it. I should have doubts of her sanity if she didn't. If Blair had been half as much of a man as his mother, he'd have made the 'sacrifice,' as you call it, long ago. Helena, you're too extreme. Duty is well enough, but don't run it into the ground."
Mrs. Richie was silent.
"Helena, you know she ought to leave him!"
"If every woman left unpleasant conditions—mind, he isn't unkind or wicked; what would become of us, Robert?"
Elizabeth's uncle would not pursue her logic; his face suddenly softened: "Well, David will come to his own at last! I wonder how soon after the thing is fixed up (if it can be fixed up) they can marry?"
The color rose sharply in her face.
"You think they won't?" he exclaimed.
"I hope not. Oh, I hope not!"
"Why not?" he said, affronted.