“I must have your answer, Barbara,” said Pelham. His voice was eager and tremulous. “Say yes or no to me at once.”
There was a pause, then came Barbara’s reply.
“I have loved you for long years, Dick; I shall never love anybody else. I would willingly become engaged to you but for mother. But mother is miserable and anxious. She has got into great money difficulties. She hopes against hope that I will relieve the strain by marrying a rich man, but, Dick, I cannot do it. I would do much for mother, but I cannot destroy my whole life even for her. You are the only one I love; I cannot give you up.”
“That’s right, Barbara; that’s plucky!” said the young man. “Then you will become engaged to me, darling?”
“I can neither give you up nor become engaged to you. You see for yourself, do you not, how I am pulled both ways? It would drive mother mad at the present crisis if I were to tell her that all hope is over—that I am engaged to you and will not look at any other man. Oh, Dick! my heart is torn. I am an unhappy, miserable girl!”
“You ought to tell her the truth,” said Pelham. “She has no right whatever to coerce you. Tell her to-night; tell her you are engaged to me. I do not expect her to consent to our marriage just at present, but at least she ought to know of the engagement.”
“No, but we ought to be—where is the difficulty? Barbara, it will be such an incentive. I shall work like a horse, and I know I shall get on. I have brains and pluck. You won’t have long to wait—I vow it. Already I am doing well in my profession; in ten years’ time I shall be a rich man.”
“But I cannot wait for ten years,” said Barbara slowly. “I don’t mind how poor you are, Dick. I would marry you to-morrow if it were not for mother. I don’t know how she will get out of her difficulties. I cannot help her in the way she wishes.”
“They speak of you in connection with Selwyn,” said the young man. “It is too awful.”
“Yes, but there is nothing in it. Such reports are sure to be spread of any girl. Listen to me, dear. I will be faithful to you, but I must not worry mother just for a little. Be satisfied; let us understand each other, but do not let the engagement become public quite yet.”
“I suppose it must be as you wish,” said Pelham, “only I hate to feel that other men have a right to talk to you, and make love to you; but I suppose I must submit. Oh! if only poor little Piers were not in existence, your mother would welcome me. If I could come to her as Sir Richard Pelham she would raise no objections, eh, Barbara?”