"But I have a meaning, Gertrude, a _deep_ meaning. I have been trying long to find an opportunity to tell you of my resolve, and you _must_ listen to me now;" for he saw her change colour and look anxious and uneasy. "You must give me an answer at once, and one that will, I trust, be favourable to my wishes. You like plain speaking; and I will be plain enough, now that my mind is made up. My relatives and friends may talk and wonder as much as they please at my choosing a wife who has neither money nor family to boast of; but I will defy them all, and offer without hesitation to share my prospects with you. What is money good for, if it does not make a man independent to do as he pleases? And, as to the world, I don't see but that you can hold your head as high as anybody, Gertrude; so, if you've no objection to make, we'll play at cross purposes no longer;" and he endeavoured to take her hand.
But Gertrude drew back; the colour flushed her cheeks, and her eyes glistened as she fixed them upon his face, with an expression of astonishment and pride. The penetrating look of those dark eyes spoke volumes, and Mr. Bruce replied to their inquiring gaze in these words: "I hope you are not displeased at my frankness."
"With your frankness," said Gertrude, calmly; "no, that is a thing that never displeases me. But what I have unconsciously done to inspire you with so much confidence, that, while you defend yourself for defying the wishes of your friends, you hardly give me a voice in the matter?"
"Nothing," said Bruce; "but I thought you had laboured under the impression that I was disposed to trifle with your affections, and had therefore kept aloof and maintained a distance towards me which you would not have done had you known I was in earnest; but, believe me, I only admired you the more for behaving with so much dignity, and if I have presumed upon your favour, you must forgive me."
The expression of wounded pride vanished from Gertrude's face. "He knows no better," thought she; "I should pity his vanity and ignorance, and sympathize in his disappointment; and, in disclaiming with a positiveness which left no room for self-deception, any interest in Mr. Bruce beyond that of an old acquaintance and well-wisher, she nevertheless softened her refusal by the choice of the mildest language. She felt gratitude and consideration were due to the man who, however little she might esteem _him_, had paid _her_ the highest honour;" and, though her regret in the matter was tempered by the thought of Kitty, and the strangeness of Mr. Bruce's conduct towards her, now rendered doubly inexplicable, she did not permit that reflection to prevent her from maintaining the demeanour of a perfect lady, who, in giving pain to another, laments the necessity of so doing. But she almost felt as if her thoughtfulness for his feelings had been thrown away, when she perceived the spirit in which he received her refusal.