'But sure it's the blatant stupidity of the world that is its greatest crime,' he protested. 'Don't I remember my mother saying to us, "Oh, children! I don't mind your being naughty--I can whack you for that; but I will not have ye stupid."'
Gwen laughed. Who could help it, over that picture of home training so utterly unfit for one recipient, at least? Indeed, she was conscious of a wish that her companion were more dull; less full of eager vitality. It made that inevitable task so hard!
'Dan,' she began desperately in sudden resolve, 'I want to talk about business. The fact is, I've had a windfall of money lately. And so--I--I intend to pay you back that loan of yours. It isn't fair----'
He was on his knees beside her, to get a closer look at her face ere she had finished. 'What is it, Gwen?' he asked rapidly. 'You owe me nothing. What do you mean? There is no question of money between us,' he went on in answer to her silence. 'There never was but once. There never shall be again. Is it anything else, Gwen?--anything in which I can help; or are you only feeling afraid of the future? Tell me outright, dear.'
Where was the good, she thought petulantly, of delays and preparations when he met her first hint in this direct fashion; yet against the grain, for she hated scenes, she took her courage in her hand and spoke up--
'Yes, I am afraid; afraid of the future for you as well as for myself--O Dan! I really wish you would sit down like a Christian and listen properly. Kissing my hand is no answer. And I am serious. This idle foolish promise of thinking about it all seriously next year when you get your promotion is not fair on you--don't laugh, Dan, it isn't. It ties you down, and prevents you doing yourself justice. And then it isn't fair on me.'
He interrupted her quickly. 'How is it not fair on you, Gwen? I don't see it. You do not like any one else as much as you like me; you know you don't. And if this half promise to me holds you back from marrying some one you do not like as you like me, why, then,' his voice lowered to tender gravity, 'I thank God for it as I should thank Him for any good He sent into your life.'
'You do not understand,' she retorted querulously. 'Surely I am the best judge of myself, and there is no reason why I should want to marry some one else because I don't think it would be right to marry you. I should make a bad wife, Dan, to any poor man; and I should not be happy. Surely, surely, I ought to know best! It isn't as if I were the inexperienced girl I was before. I have been married for years, and I think, yes I am sure, that I am happier as I am.' Her last words degenerated into something between a laugh and a sob. It really was too ridiculous, too grievous, that she, Gwen Boynton, with all her knowledge of the world, should not be considered fit to judge for herself.