her go. Then, because of the set determination of his face, some intense
pull in him, she smiled. "How would I ever explain if I did marry you?"
she asked, weakly. "Your father! Your mother!"

"You don't need to explain. I'll do that. And you needn't worry about my
family. They won't care."

"But mine," she recoiled.

"Don't worry about yours. I'm not marrying your family. I'm marrying
you. We have independent means."

She relapsed into additional protests; but he kissed her the more. There
was a deadly persuasion to his caresses. Mr. Semple had never displayed
any such fire. He aroused a force of feeling in her which had not
previously been there. She was afraid of it and ashamed.

"Will you marry me in a month?" he asked, cheerfully, when she paused.

"You know I won't!" she exclaimed, nervously. "The idea! Why do you
ask?"

"What difference does it make? We're going to get married eventually."
He was thinking how attractive he could make her look in other
surroundings. Neither she nor his family knew how to live.

"Well, not in a month. Wait a little while. I will marry you after a
while--after you see whether you want me."

He caught her tight. "I'll show you," he said.