"Jessie, do not make rash statements, which you may regret. I am not asking you to promise to marry Mr. Carteret. I only asked you to give him a chance to win your love."
"Mother, it is no use. I'll never love Mr. Carteret."
"But, Jessie, think of his prospects. His father is a feeble old man. His death is expected any day. The present heir has only one lung."
"I don't care if he had only quarter of one lung. It would make no difference to me."
"But, Jessie, stop and think of it. Mr. Carteret will then be Lord Lewesthorpe, and you would be the Countess of Lewesthorpe."
"Mother, there is no use in your talking like that. I do not care if he were the Prince of Wales. I would not pledge myself to try to love a man whom I do not respect."
"Jessie, I am bitterly disappointed in you. You are all I have. If Allister were living it would be different." Tears, real tears, of grief and mortification sprang into the older woman's eyes and began to roll down her cheeks. "If I had Allister, it would be different. He would build up the family. But I have only you, and you will not do anything I wish. I am grievously disappointed."
"Mother, you are not fair to me. I have tried to do what you wanted. But you are asking of me what I cannot do. I cannot give myself body and soul to a man I despise, a man I can never love."
"But think of the title, Jessie, and the estates, and the old mansion built in the time of Queen Elizabeth. And think of the place you would have in society. You would learn to love him if you would only let yourself."
"Mother is it possible that you think that I could love a man for these things? I must love him for himself, or not at all."