Guardian and ward -- Fiction; Older men -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
"Well, at all events you can't deny one thing," says she checking her
sobs, and gazing at him again with undying enmity. "You want to get rid
of me, you are determined to marry me to some one, so as to get me out
of your way. But I shan't marry to please _you_. I needn't either. There
is somebody else who wants to marry me besides your--_your_ candidate!"
with an indignant glance. "I have had a letter from Sir Hastings this
afternoon. And," rebelliously, "I haven't answered it yet."
"Then you shall answer it now," says the professor. "And you shall say
'no' to him."
"Why? Because you order me?"
"Partly because of that. Partly because I trust to your own instincts to
see the wisdom of so doing."
"Ah! you beg the question," says she, "but I'm not so sure I shall obey
you for all that."
"Perpetua! Do not speak to me like that, I implore you," says the
professor, very pale. "Do you think I am not saying all this for your
good? Sir Hastings--he is my brother--it is hard for me to explain
myself, but he will not make you happy."
"Happy! _You_ think of my happiness?"
"Of what else?" A strange yearning look comes into his eyes. "God knows
it is _all_ I think of," says he.
"And so you would marry me to Mr. Hardinge?"
"Hardinge is a good man, and he loves you."
"If so, he is the only one on earth who does," cries the girl bitterly.
She turns abruptly away, and struggles with herself for a moment, then
looks back at him. "Well. I shall not marry him," says she.
"That is in your own hands," says the professor. "But I shall have
something to say about the other proposal you speak of."
"Do you think I want to marry your brother?" says she. "I tell you no,
no, _no_! A thousand times no! The very fact that he _is_ your brother
would prevent me. To be your ward is bad enough, to be your
sister-in-law would be insufferable. For all the world I would not be
more to you than I am now."
"It is a wise decision," says the professor icily. He feels smitten to
his very heart's core. Had he ever dreamed of a nearer, dearer tie
between them?--if so the dream is broken now.
"Decision?" stammers she.
"Not to marry my brother."
"Not to be more to you, you mean!"
"You don't know what you are saying," says the professor, driven beyond
his self-control. "You are a mere child, a baby, you speak at random."
"What!" cries she, flashing round at him, "will you deny that I have
been a trouble to you, that you would have been thankful had you never
heard my name?"
"You are right," gravely. "I deny nothing. I wish with all my soul I had
never heard your name. I confess you troubled me. I go beyond even
_that_, I declare that you have been my undoing! And now, let us make an
end of it. I am a poor man and a busy one, this task your father laid
upon my shoulders is too heavy for me. I shall resign my guardianship;
Gwendoline--Lady Baring--will accept the position. She likes you,
and--you will find it hard to break _her_ heart."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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