“Frank!” exclaimed Emma.
“Yes, dear. No one can possibly understand what it costs me to say this, but it would be the worst kind of selfishness were I to ask you to marry a poor wretched cripple like me.”
“But what if I refuse to be released, Frank?” said Emma, with a smile; “you may, indeed, be a cripple, but you shall not be a wretched one if it is in my power to make you happy; and as to your being poor—what of that? I knew you were not rich when I accepted you, and you know I have a very, very small fortune of my own which will at least enable us to exist until you are able to work again.”
Frank looked at her in surprise, for he had not used the word poor with reference to money.
“Has mother, then, not told you anything about my circumstances of late?” he asked.
“No, nothing; what could she tell me that I do not already know?” said Emma.
Frank made no reply for a few moments, then he said with a sad yet gratified smile—
“So you refuse to be released?”
“Yes, Frank, unless you insist on it,” replied Emma.
Again the invalid relapsed into silence and shut his eyes. Gradually he fell into a quiet slumber, from which, about two hours later, he awoke with a start under the impression that he had omitted to say something. Looking up he found that his mother had taken Emma’s place. He at once asked why she had not told Emma about the change in his fortunes.