“Well, I think Ben might have told me that!” cried Stephen.
“I wonder he didn't,” said Elinor.
“Elinor, let me tell you—”
“Don't tell me anything, Stephen, I don't want to hear it!” she said determinedly, the colour coming into her face.
“Why not?”
“You are not in a position—” again she came to an abrupt stop. “To marry—you would say? Why not, Elinor?”
“Why, Stephen, what have you to offer a woman?”
“As much as any man—my love,” he said stoutly.
“A girl might accept that, and might not care to share the position you accept, of dependence;” but when she had spoken, she caught her breath with a little gasp of dismay. She had said not more than she felt, but much more than she felt she had any right to say. “I mean, Stephen, that while you may be satisfied with your relation with Mr. Benson, it might not be so satisfactory to the girl you marry; she would not wish to feel dependent.”
“She needn't, I don't feel dependent.”