“You don’t understand,” she said sadly, “and I don’t know that I understand it myself. You wouldn’t wish me to marry Fitz Anstruther if I don’t care for him, would you? and he wouldn’t wish it either. But could I lose a chance of saving Dick because of that? It’s not as if I had pretended to give him any hope. I spoke perfectly plainly, and he quite sees how it is.”
“But you must care for him a little,” broke out Flora, “when he is willing to do such a thing for you without any reward. Oh, you do, don’t you?”
“No,” said Mabel slowly, “I’m sure I don’t. If I did, I couldn’t have let him go.”
“Oh yes,” cried Flora hopefully, “for Mrs North’s sake, and your brother’s, you could give him up.”
Mabel shook her head. “I like him very much,” she said, “but I don’t want to marry him.”
“Now that’s what I say is being mean!” cried Flora. “You get all you want out of him, and offer him nothing in return, because he is generous enough to work without payment. He has made himself too cheap.”
“Well, I am very sorry, but I don’t see how I can help it. If I want things done, and he is willing to do them on my conditions, would you have me refuse?”
“Did your Browning studies with the Commissioner ever take you as far as the story of the lady and the glove?” asked Flora suddenly. “The knight fetched her glove out of the lions’ den, you know, and then threw it in her face. Mr Anstruther would never do anything so rude, but I should really love to advise him to try how you would feel towards him after a little wholesome neglect.”
“Mr Anstruther is a gentleman,” said Mabel, growing red.
“And you trade upon that too! Oh, Mab, you don’t deserve to have a nice man in love with you. It would serve you right if a William the Conqueror sort of person came, and urged his suit with a horsewhip.”