“I am not bright; I am stupid.”
“This sisterly love is all very well, but a man can not bear to have it carried too far. He is pure gold, daughter; he is worthy of a princess. Now don’t worry; you haven’t done any harm. Go to bed and go to sleep; you have had too much worry this last week.”
“I know it must be Dine.”
“If you did not look half sick, I would be angry with you. I thought women were quick witted.”
“I suppose some are,” she said slowly. “He will never ask me, never.”
“Why not?” he asked sharply.
“Because—because—”
“Because you haven’t thought of it. If you do not like any one—and I don’t see how you can—you don’t, do you?”
“I don’t—know.”
“There! There, dear, don’t cry! Go to sleep and forget it.”