Mary smiled, and the soft colour flew over her face at the suggestion.
"Oh, not for a long time yet, David!" she replied. "Angus has not yet finished his book,—and even when it is all done, he has to get it published. He won't have the banns put up till the book is accepted."
"Won't he?" And Helmsley's eyes grew very wistful. "Why not?"
"Well, it's for quite a good reason, after all," she said. "He wants to feel perfectly independent. You see, if he could get even a hundred pounds down for his book he would be richer than I am, and it would be all right. He'd never marry me with nothing at all of his own."
"Yet you would marry him?"
"I'm not sure that I would," and she lifted her hand with a prettily proud gesture. "You see, David, I really love him! And my love is too strong and deep for me to be so selfish as to wish to drag him down. I wouldn't have him lower his own self-respect for the world!"
"Love is greater than self-respect!" said Helmsley.
"Oh, David! You know better than that! There's no love without self-respect—no real love, I mean. There are certain kinds of stupid fancies called love—but they've no 'wear' in them!" and she laughed. "They wouldn't last a month, let alone a lifetime!"
He sighed a little, and his lips trembled nervously.
"I'm afraid, my dear,—I'm afraid I shall not live to see you married!" he said.