"Better cut mine out, Little Girl," he said. "I'll consider that myself."
"Well—I won't talk about it if you don't want me to. There are the other three."
"I won't question your second, nor your imposing third, but isn't the first one—your own personal problem—a good deal answered?" he suggested, holding her close for a moment.
"Don't!" she said. "I can't talk straight when you put it that way."
She rose hurriedly and took a step or two up and down. "I don't suppose—in spite of your loving me, that I can make you see it as I do. But I'll be just as clear as I can. There are some years before us before we can be together. In that time I intend to go away and undertake a business I am interested in. My purpose is to—develop the work, to earn money, to help my family, and to—well, not to hinder you."
"I don't understand, I confess," he said. "Don't you propose to tell me what this 'work' is?"
"Yes—I will—certainly. But not yet dear! Let me try to show you how
I feel about it."
"Wait," said he. "One thing I want to be sure of. Are you doing this with any quixotic notion of helping me—in my business? Helping me to take care of my family? Helping me to—" he stood up now, looking very tall and rather forbidding, "No, I won't say that to you."
"Would there be anything wrong in my meaning exactly that?" she asked, holding her own head a little higher; "both what you said and what you didn't?"
"It would be absolutely wrong, all of it," he answered. "I cannot believe that the woman I love would—could take such a position."