ill be true to
all my interests. Think how I've been robbed and wronged, and what a
dog's life I've lived in my own home. You need a home, a support, and
a protector. I couldn't come to you or go to any other woman and say
honestly more than this. Isn't it better for people to be united on
the ground of truth than to begin by telling a pack of lies?"
"But--but can people be married with such an understanding by a
minister? Wouldn't it be deceiving him?"
"I shall not ask you to deceive anyone. Any marriage that either you
or I could now make would be practically a business marriage. I should
therefore take you, if you were willing, to a justice and have a legal
or civil marriage performed, and this would be just as binding as any
other in the eye of the law. It is often done. This would be much
better to my mind than if people, situated as we are, went to a church
or a minister."
"Yes, yes, I couldn't do that."
"Well, now, Alida," he said, with a smile that wonderfully softened his
rugged features, "you are free to decide. It may seem to you a strange
sort of courtship, but we are both too old for much foolishness. I
never was sentimental, and it would be ridiculous to begin now. I'm
full of trouble and perplexity, and so are you. Are you willing to be
my wife so far as an honest name goes, and help me make a living for us
both? That's all I ask. I, in my turn, would promise to treat you
with kindness and respect, and give you a home as long as I lived and
to leave you all I have in the world if I died. That's all I could
promise. I'm a lonely, quiet man, and like to be by myself. I
wouldn't be much society for you. I've said more today than I might in
a month, for I felt that it was due to you to know just what you were
doing."
"Oh, sir," said Alida, trembling, and with tears in her eyes, "you do
not ask much and you offer a great deal. If you, a strong man, dread
to leave your home and go out into the world you know not where, think
how terrible it is for a weak, friendless woman to be worse than
homeless. I have lost everything, even my good name."
"No, no! Not in my eyes."
"Oh, I know, I know!" she cried, wringing her hands. "Even these
miserable paupers like myself have made me feel it. They have burned
the truth into my brain and heart. Indeed, sir, you do not realize
what you are doing or asking. It is not fit or meet that I should bear
your name. You might be sorry, indeed."
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