‘Quite serious!’
‘My dear James, you are joking with me. I will never believe you capable of such folly.’
‘You think it is folly to marry again?’
‘That is for you to determine, James; but whenever you marry, you will at least marry a lady.’
Forster’s face darkened. ‘He knew his sister’s strong prepossessions on certain subjects, but he hardly expected so decided an opposition, ‘Listen to me, Margaret,’ he said firmly; ‘and before we go further let me beseech you, for my sake, to refrain from saying anything offensive concerning Miss Vere. Understand me clearly. I love her—deeply, passionately; and with a man at my age, love means the highest sort of respect. She is as far my superior in every gift of nature as I, perhaps, am hers in worldly position.’
He paused, but Margaret made no sign. She kept her cold eyes fixed upon his face, as if fascinated by the horror of a degrading confession; but her pulses temperately kept time, and her self-control was perfect.
Then he continued:—
‘I repeat, that I ought possibly to have consulted you earlier on this subject, and I am not at all astonished at your surprise. I never thought to have married a second time. My first experience, as you know, was not encouraging, and since her death you have made my home very happy. My dear Margaret, forgive me if I have seemed unkind, but setting aside the reasons to which I have alluded, I thought it better not to speak of this until I had spoken to Miss Vere. Well, I have spoken, and I thought you ought to know the result. That is why I took you to the theatre. That is why I have spoken.’
He paused again. This time his sister replied—
‘Of course, James, you are your own master. I have no right to object.’