Your absence of
means, of a profession, of visible resources or prospects, places you
in a category from which it would be imprudent for me to select a
husband for my daughter, who is a weak young woman with a large
fortune. In any other capacity I am perfectly prepared to like you.
As a son-in-law, I abominate you!"
Morris Townsend listened respectfully. "I don't think Miss Sloper is
a weak woman," he presently said.
"Of course you must defend her--it's the least you can do. But I
have known my child twenty years, and you have known her six weeks.
Even if she were not weak, however, you would still be a penniless
man."
"Ah, yes; that is MY weakness! And therefore, you mean, I am
mercenary--I only want your daughter's money."
"I don't say that. I am not obliged to say it; and to say it, save
under stress of compulsion, would be very bad taste. I say simply
that you belong to the wrong category."
"But your daughter doesn't marry a category," Townsend urged, with
his handsome smile. "She marries an individual--an individual whom
she is so good as to say she loves."
"An individual who offers so little in return!"
"Is it possible to offer more than the most tender affection and a
lifelong devotion?" the young man demanded.
"It depends how we take it. It is possible to offer a few other
things besides; and not only is it possible, but it's usual. A
lifelong devotion is measured after the fact; and meanwhile it is
customary in these cases to give a few material securities.
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