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Keyes, Frances Parkinson, 1885-1970

"The Old Gray Homestead"

What's
your next 'detail'?"
"I suppose I'll have to give in about the money--but will you mind, very
much, if we have--a long engagement?"
"I certainly shall. As I told you before, I think too much has been
sacrificed to convention already."
"It isn't that."
"What, then?"
"I don't know how to tell you, and still have you believe I love
you dearly."
"You mean, that for some reason, you're not ready to marry me yet?" And
as she nodded without speaking, her eyes filling with tears, he asked
very gently, "Why not, Sylvia?"
"I'm afraid."
"Afraid--_of me?_"
"No--that is, not of you personally--but of marriage itself. I can't bear
yet--the thought of facing--passion."
The hand that had been stroking her hair dropped suddenly, and she felt
him draw away from her, with something almost like a groan, and put her
arms around his neck, clinging to him with all her strength.
"_Don't_--I love you--and love you--and _love you_--oh, can't I make you
see? Are you very angry with me, Austin?"
"No, darling, I'm not angry at all.


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