uch I know. His
will is made. It will not be altered. You will be a poor man as wealth is
reckoned in these days. But you will be a great man. You will be famous,
distinguished, honoured. That is what he intends. He set out to sacrifice
me in order that you might be spared. You were not to have a millstone
about your neck in the shape of a selfish, unsacrificing wife. What rot!
From the bottom of my heart, Braden,--if you will grant me a heart,--I hope
and pray that you may go to the head of your profession, that you may be a
great and good man. I do not ask you to believe me when I say that I love
you, and always--"

"For God's sake, don't ask me to believe it! Don't add to the degradation
you are piling up for yourself. Spare yourself that miserable confession.
It is quite unnecessary to lie to me, Anne."

"Lie? I am telling you the truth, Braden. I do love you. I can't help
that, can I? You do not for an instant suspect that I love this doddering
old man, do you? Well, I must love some one. That's natural, isn't it?
Then, why shouldn't it be you? Oh, laugh if you will! It doesn't hurt me
in the least. Curse me, if you like. I've made up my mind to go on with
this business of marrying. We've had one unsuccessful marriage in our
family of late. Love was at the bottom of it. You know how it has turned
out, Braden. It--"

"I believe I know how it might have turned out if they had been left to
themselves," said he bluntly.

"She would have been a millstone, nevertheless," she argued.

"I don't agree with you. George found his level in that little nobody, as
you all have called her. Poor little thing, she was not so lucky as I. She
did not have her eyes opened in time. She had no chance to escape. But
we're not here to talk about Lutie Carnahan. I have told my grandfather
that I intend to break this thing off if it is in my power to do so. I
shall not give up until I know that you are actually married. It is a
crime that must not--"

"How do you purpose breaking it off?" she inquired shrilly. Visions of a
strong figure rising in the middle of the ceremony to cry out against the
final words flashed into her mind. Would she have that to look forward to
and dread?

"I shall go on appealing to your honour, your decency, your self-respect,
if not to the love you say you bear for me."

She breathed easier. "And will you confine your appeals to me?"

"What do you mean?"

"I thought you might take it into your head to