"Admitted at once."
"And I'm twenty-one and a half."
"That's no such awful revelation, surely!"
"And we've been engaged ever since my birthday," the girl pursued.
"All these are facts, dearest."
"Now, Ross, will you be perfectly frank with me? May I ask you an--an
impertinent question?"
"You may ask me any question you like; it couldn't be impertinent."
"You'll be scandalised, I know--but--well, here goes. What would you
think if Madeline--or any of the girls--should go away to work?"
He looked at her lovingly, but with a little smile on his firm mouth.
"I shouldn't allow it," he said.
"O--allow it? I asked you what you'd think."
"I should think it was a disgrace to the family, and a direct reproach
to me," be answered. "But it's no use talking about that. None of the
girls have any such foolish notion. And I wouldn't permit it if they
had."
Diantha smiled. "I suppose you never would permit your wife to work?"
"My widow might have to--not my wife." He held his fine head a trifle
higher, and her hand ached for a moment.
"Wouldn't you let me work--to help you, Ross?"
"My dearest girl, you've got something far harder than that to do for
me, and that's wait."
His face darkened again, and he passed his hand over his forehead.
"Sometimes I feel as if I ought not to hold you at all!" he burst out,
bitterly.
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