"
"And now?" she asked.
"Beatrice!"
She turned and faced him. She looked into his eyes very
searchingly, very wistfully.
"Beatrice," he said, "I ask you once more, only differently.
Will you marry me now? I'll find some work, I'll make enough
money for us. Do you remember," he went on, "how I used to talk,
how I used to feel that I had only to put forth my strength and I
could win anything? I'll feel like that again, Beatrice, if
you'll come to me."
She shook her head slowly. She looked away from him with a sigh.
She had the air of one who has sought for something which she has
failed to find.
"You mustn't think of that again, Leonard," she told him. "It
would be quite impossible. This is the only way I can save my
father. We have a tour that will take us the best part of
another year."
"But you are sacrificing yourself!" he declared. "I will keep
your father."
"It isn't that only," she replied. "For one thing, I couldn't
let you; and for another, it isn't only the money, it's the work.
As long as he's made to think that the public expect him every
night, he keeps off drinking too much. There is nothing else in
the whole world which would keep him steady. Don't look as
though you didn't understand, Leonard. He is my father, you
know, and there isn't anything more terrible than to see any one
who has a claim on us give way to anything like that. You mayn't
quite approve, but please believe that I am doing what I feel to
be right.
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