"That's true, too," said the girl."And I can sneak off to Mexico with a good conscience if I could make up my mind to it."She laughed."Well, if I could be SENTENCED to be married, or somebody would up and forbid the banns! I don't know what to do about it."Her mother left her to carry her hesitation back to Corey, and she said now, they had better go all over it and try to reason it out."And I hope that whatever I do, it won't be for my own sake, but for--others!"Corey said he was sure of that, and looked at her with eyes of patient tenderness.
"I don't say it is wrong," she proceeded, rather aimlessly, "but I can't make it seem right.I don't know whether I can make you understand, but the idea of being happy, when everybody else is so miserable, is more than Ican endure.It makes me wretched."
"Then perhaps that's your share of the common suffering,"suggested Corey, smiling.
"Oh, you know it isn't! You know it's nothing.
Oh! One of the reasons is what I told you once before, that as long as father is in trouble I can't let you think of me.Now that he's lost everything--?" She bent her eyes inquiringly upon him, as if for the effect of this argument.
"I don't think that's a very good reason," he answered seriously, but smiling still."Do you believe me when I tell you that I love you?""Why, I suppose I must," she said, dropping her eyes.
"Then why shouldn't I think all the more of you on account of your father's loss? You didn't suppose I cared for you because he was prosperous?"There was a shade of reproach, ever so delicate and gentle, in his smiling question, which she felt.
"No, I couldn't think such a thing of you.I--I don't know what I meant.I meant that----" She could not go on and say that she had felt herself more worthy of him because of her father's money; it would not have been true;yet there was no other explanation.She stopped, and cast a helpless glance at him.
He came to her aid."I understand why you shouldn't wish me to suffer by your father's misfortunes.""Yes, that was it; and there is too great a difference every way.We ought to look at that again.You mustn't pretend that you don't know it, for that wouldn't be true.
Your mother will never like me, and perhaps--perhaps Ishall not like her."
"Well," said Corey, a little daunted, "you won't have to marry my family.""Ah, that isn't the point!"
"I know it," he admitted."I won't pretend that I don't see what you mean; but I'm sure that all the differences would disappear when you came to know my family better.
I'm not afraid but you and my mother will like each other--she can't help it!" he exclaimed, less judicially than he had hitherto spoken, and he went on to urge some points of doubtful tenability."We have our ways, and you have yours; and while I don't say but what you and my mother and sisters would be a little strange together at first, it would soon wear off, on both sides.
There can't be anything hopelessly different in you all, and if there were it wouldn't be any difference to me.""Do you think it would be pleasant to have you on my side against your mother?""There won't be any sides.Tell me just what it is you're afraid of.""Afraid?"
"Thinking of, then."
"I don't know.It isn't anything they say or do,"she explained, with her eyes intent on his."It's what they are.I couldn't be natural with them, and if Ican't be natural with people, I'm disagreeable.""Can you be natural with me?"
"Oh, I'm not afraid of you.I never was.That was the trouble, from the beginning.""Well, then, that's all that's necessary.And it never was the least trouble to me!""It made me untrue to Irene."
"You mustn't say that! You were always true to her.""She cared for you first."
"Well, but I never cared for her at all!" he besought her.
"She thought you did."
"That was nobody's fault, and I can't let you make it yours.
My dear----"
"Wait.We must understand each other," said Penelope, rising from her seat to prevent an advance he was ****** from his; "I want you to realise the whole affair.
Should you want a girl who hadn't a cent in the world, and felt different in your mother's company, and had cheated and betrayed her own sister?""I want you!"
"Very well, then, you can't have me.I should always despise myself.I ought to give you up for all these reasons.Yes, I must." She looked at him intently, and there was a tentative quality in her affirmations.
"Is this your answer?" he said."I must submit.
If I asked too much of you, I was wrong.And--good-bye."He held out his hand, and she put hers in it.
"You think I'm capricious and fickle!" she said.
"I can't help it--I don't know myself.I can't keep to one thing for half a day at a time.But it's right for us to part--yes, it must be.It must be," she repeated;"and I shall try to remember that.Good-bye! I will try to keep that in my mind, and you will too--you won't care, very soon! I didn't mean THAT--no; I know how true you are;but you will soon look at me differently; and see that even IF there hadn't been this about Irene, I was not the one for you.You do think so, don't you?" she pleaded, clinging to his hand."I am not at all what they would like--your family; I felt that.I am little, and black, and homely, and they don't understand my way of talking, and now that we've lost everything--No, I'm not fit.
Good-bye.You're quite right, not to have patience with me any longer.I've tried you enough.I ought to be willing to marry you against their wishes if you want me to, but I can't make the sacrifice--I'm too selfish for that----" All at once she flung herself on his breast.
"I can't even give you up! I shall never dare look any one in the face again.Go, go! But take me with you! Itried to do without you! I gave it a fair trial, and it was a dead failure.O poor Irene! How could she give you up?"Corey went back to Boston immediately, and left Penelope, as he must, to tell her sister that they were to be married.
