"I do not think he will desire it after a while. And ... and I do not
know what I wish. I am torn in two."
"But you are willing?"
"I pray for it every night," she cried piteously. "And every morning I
pray that it may not be so."
She was staring at him as if in agony, utterly unlike what he had looked
for in her. He was completely bewildered.
"I do not understand one word--"
Then she threw herself at his knees and seized his hands; her face was
all torn with pain.
"And I cannot explain one word.... Father, I am in misery. You must pray
for me and have patience with me.... I must wait ... I must wait and see
what God wishes."
"Now, now...."
"Father, you will trust me, will you not?"
"Listen to me. You must tell me thus. Do you love this boy?"
"Yes, yes."
"And you have told him so? He asked you, I mean?"
"Yes."
He put her hands firmly from his knee.
"Then you must marry him, if matters can be arranged. It is what I
should wish. But I do not know--"
"Father, you do not understand--you do not understand. I tell you I am
willing enough, if he wishes it ... if he wishes it."
Again she seized his hands and held them. And again bewilderment came
down on him like a cloud.
"Father! you must trust me. I am willing to do everything that I ought."
(She was speaking firmly and confidently now.) "If he wishes to marry
me, I will marry him. I love him dearly.... But you must say nothing to
him, not one word.
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