"That is, except yourself, Miss Danton. You have grown thin within the last fortnight. What is the matter?"
"I am not very happy," she said, with a little tremor of the voice; "perhaps that is it."
"Not happy?" repeated Father Francis, with a short, peculiar laugh. "I thought when young ladies married baronets, the height of earthly felicity was attained. It seems rather sordid, this marrying for wealth and title. I hardly thought Kate Danton would do it; but it appears I have made a foolish mistake."
"Thank you," Kate said, very slowly. "I came here to ask you to be cruel to me—to tell me hard truths. You know how to be cruel very well, Father Francis."
"Why do you come to me for hard truths?" said the priest, rather coldly. "You have been deluding yourself all along; why don't you go on? What is the use of telling you the truth? You will do as you like in the end."
"Perhaps not. I have not fallen quite so low as you think. I dare say you despise me, but you can hardly despise me more than I despise myself."
"Then why walk on in the path that leads you downward? Why not stop before it is too late?"
"It is too late now!"
"Stuff and nonsense! That is more of your self-delusion. You, or rather that pride of yours, which has been the great stumbling-block of your life, leads you on in that self-delusion. Too late! It would not be too late if you were before the altar! Better stop now and endure the humiliation than render your own and this man's future life miserable. You will never be happy as Sir Ronald Keith's wife; he will never be happy as your husband. I know how you are trying to delude yourself; I know you are trying to believe you will love him and be happy by-and-by. Don't indulge such sophistry any longer; don't be led away by your own pride and folly."
"Pride and folly!" she echoed indignantly.