“There is no occasion to say more, madam,” said he; for, unfortunately,
so unprepared was he for the announcement, its chief effect was to
wound his pride. “It is the second time within a few months destiny has
stopped my step on your threshold. It only remains for me to submit to
my fate, and not adventure upon an enterprise above my means.”
“You are offended with me, and yet you ought not,” said she,
sorrowfully; “you ought to feel that I am consulting _your_ interests
fully as much as ours.”
“I own, madam,” said he, coldly, “I am unable to take the view you have
placed before me.”
“Must I speak out, then?--must I declare my meaning in all its
matter-of-fact harshness, and say that your family and your friends
would have little scruple in estimating the discretion which encouraged
your intimacy with my niece,--the son of the distinguished and
highly favored General Conyers with the daughter of the ruined George
Barring-ton? These are hard words to say, but I have said them.”
“It is to my father you are unjust now, Miss Harrington.”
“No, Mr. Conyers; there is no injustice in believing that a father loves
his son with a love so large that it cannot exclude even worldliness.
There is no injustice in believing that a proud and successful man
would desire to see his son successful too; and we all know what we call
success. I see you are very angry with me. You think me very worldly
and very small-minded; perhaps, too, you would like to say that all the
perils I talk of are of my own inventing; that Fifine and you could be
the best of friends, and never think of more than friendship; and that
I might spare my anxieties, and not fret for sorrows that have no
existence;--and to all this I would answer, I 'll not risk the chance.
No, Mr. Conyers, I 'll be no party to a game where the stakes are so
unequal. What might give _you_ a month's sorrow might cost _her_ the
misery of a life long.”
“I have no choice left me. I will go,--I will go to-night, Miss
Barrington.”
“Perhaps it would be better,” said she, gravely, and walked slowly away.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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