“Pray do not get so excited, Norman,” Dr. Winthrop wearily returned. “Sit down and let us talk this matter over calmly. You ask me if I love Sadie Rochester. You must know that after the experiences which I have been through during the last two years, it would not be easy for me to love any woman with the absorbing passion of a first attachment. I have not even pretended to any such affection; but Miss Rochester is not disagreeable to me; she evidently desires the union, while you well know that my mother’s heart is set upon it. Therefore, since much depends upon the fulfilment of this contract, I feel that it is perhaps my duty to yield to the wishes of others, and—well,” with a long-drawn sigh, as if further explanation would not better matters, “that is about all there is concerning it.” “And, I suppose you were going to remark, since your life has been ruined by the loss of the woman you loved, it cannot matter much if you sacrifice yourself to gain these fortunes, without regard to the feelings of any one else,” sneered Norman Winthrop, with exceeding bitterness. “Yes,” he went on, with increasing excitement, “you have read me aright; this matter is a source of unhappiness—of despair to me. I love Sadie Rochester as you never thought of loving any one; she has become the one woman in the world to me, and if I must lose her I do not care how quickly I go to the devil. Be quiet!” he continued savagely, as Dr. Winthrop attempted to speak; “I must let it all out—I’ll not give up all my hopes without a struggle. I know that I have always been the black sheep of the family, that I’ve been wild and fast, and have cared but little for anything save my own pleasure; but I love this girl so well that she could do anything she chose with me; she could mould me to her will like a lump of wax—I would be a man for her sake, working hard for fortune, honor, and a name, if I could but win her for my wife; but without her I am lost, and the hardest of all is that I believe I could win her if it were not for this cursed money.” Dr. Winthrop flushed. It was not pleasant to be told that a woman was going to marry him simply for the fortune she would thus secure, even if he did not love her as well as he should. Still he believed that his brother was blinded by his own feelings. He was quite sure that Miss Rochester loved him—for she had told him so—had she not tried to impress the fact upon him in many ways?—and he honestly believed that he should wreck her happiness if he did not make her his wife. At all events, he had offered himself to her, and been accepted, and there was no honorable way of retreating from the position.