“I told you, rather,” broke he in, “that I wished to put that feeling to the last test, by linking your fortune with my own forever.” “Very well, I accept that version. You offered to make me your wife, and in return, I asked you to retract your words,--to suffer our relations to continue on their old footing, nor subject me to the necessity of an explanation painful to both of us. For a while you consented; now you seem impatient at your concession, and ask me to resume the subject. Be it so, but for the last time.” Massingbred's cheeks grew deadly pale, but he never uttered a word. After a second's pause, she resumed: “Your affections are less engaged in this case than you think. You would make me your wife just as you would do anything else that gave a bold defiance to the world, to show a consciousness of your own power, to break down any obstacle, and make the prejudices or opinions of society give way before you. You have energy and self-esteem enough to make this succeed. Your wife--albeit the steward's daughter--the governess! would be received, invited, visited, and the rest of it; and so far as _you_ were concerned the triumph would be complete. Now, however, turn a little attention to the other side of the medal. What is to requite _me_ for all this courtesy on sufferance, all this mockery of consideration? Where am I to find my friendships, where even discover my duties? You only know of one kind of pride, that of station and social eminence. I can tell you there is another, loftier far,--the consciousness that no inequality of position can obliterate, what I feel and know in myself of superiority to those fine ladies whose favorable notice you would entreat for me. Smile at the vanity of this declaration if you like, sir, but, at least, own that I am consistent; for I am prouder in the independence of my present dependence than I should be in all the state of Mr. Massingbred's wife. You can see, therefore, that I could not accept this change as the great elevation you would deem it. You would be stooping to raise one who could never persuade herself that she was exalted. I am well aware that inequality of one sort or another is the condition of most marriages. The rank of one compensates for the wealth of the other. Here it is affluence and age, there it is beauty and poverty. People treat the question in a good commercial spirit, and balance the profit and loss like tradesfolk; but even in this sense our compact would be impossible, since _you_ would endow me with what has no value in my eyes, and _I_, worse off still, have absolutely nothing to give in return.” “Give me your love, dearest Kate,” cried he, “and, supported by that, you shall see that I deserve it. Believe me, it is your own proud spirit that exaggerates the difficulties that would await us in society.”