She flashed a grateful look at him. "It is this way, my dear. I have
two, three, yes four, things to consider:--My own personal problem--my
family's--yours--and a social one."

"My family's?" he asked, with a faint shade of offence in his tone.

"No no dear--your own," she explained.

"Better cut mine out, Little Girl," he said. "I'll consider that
myself."

"Well--I won't talk about it if you don't want me to. There are the
other three."

"I won't question your second, nor your imposing third, but isn't the
first one--your own personal problem--a good deal answered?" he
suggested, holding her close for a moment.

"Don't!" she said. "I can't talk straight when you put it that way."

She rose hurriedly and took a step or two up and down. "I don't
suppose--in spite of your loving me, that I can make you see it as I do.
But I'll be just as clear as I can. There are some years before us
before we can be together. In that time I intend to go away and
undertake a business I am interested in. My purpose is to--develop the
work, to earn money, to help my family, and to--well, not to hinder
you."

"I don't understand, I confess," he said. "Don't you propose to tell me
what this 'work' is?"