furious—yes, kind as he is, he would be furious—if I even hinted that I was fond of you. Any man who proposed to marry me—if he couldn’t match the fortune that I should bring him by a fortune of his own—would be a lunatic in papa’s eyes. He wouldn’t think it necessary to answer him; he would ring the bell, and have him shown out of the house. I am exaggerating nothing, Launce; you know I am speaking the truth. There is no hope in the future—that I can see—for either of us.
“Have you done, Natalie? I have something to say on my side if you have.”
“What is it?”
“If things go on as they are going on now, shall I tell you how it will end? It will end in your being Turlington’s wife.”
“Never!”
“So you say now; but you don’t know what may happen between this and Christmas-day. Natalie, there is only one way of making sure that you will never marry Richard. Marry me.”
“Without papa’s consent?”
“Without saying a word to anybody till it’s done.”
“Oh, Launce! Launce!”
“My darling, every word you have said proves there is no other way. Think of it, Natalie, think of it.”
There was a pause. Natalie dropped her needle and thread, and hid her face in her hands. “If my poor mother was only alive,” she said; “if I only had an elder sister to advise me, and to take my part.”
She was evidently hesitating. Launce took a man’s advantage of her indecision. He pressed her without mercy.
“Do you love me?” he whispered, with his lips close to her ear.
“You know I do, dearly.”
“Put it out of Richard’s power to part us, Natalie.”
“Part us? We are cousins: we have known each other since we were both children. Even if he proposed parting us, papa wouldn’t allow it.”
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