"
"The night wears on, Miss Custis," spoke Meshach. "Its rewards are
already great to me. When may I return?"
"I think we must determine what to do this night, Mr. Milburn," Vesta
said, with rising determination. "Not one point nearer have we come to
any solution of this obligation of my father. We have considered it up
to this time as my obligation, and that may have unduly encouraged you.
Sir, I can work for my living."
"You _work_?" repeated Milburn.
"Why not? I love my father. As other women who are left poor work for
their children or a sick husband, why should not I for him! Poverty has
no terrors but--but the loss of pride."
"You hazard that, whatever happens," said her suitor, "but you will not
lose it by evading the lesser evil for the greater. I have heard of
women who fled to poverty from dissatisfaction with a husband, but pride
survived and made poverty dreadful. Pride in either case increased the
discontent. You should take the step which will let pride be absorbed in
duty, if not in love."
"Duty?" thought Vesta. "That is a reposeful word, better than Love. Mr.
Milburn," she said aloud, "how is it my duty to do what you ask?"
"I think I perceive that you have a loyal heart, a conscientiousness
that deceit cannot even approach. Something has already made you slow to
marriage, else, with your wonders, I would not have had the chance to
be now rejected by you.
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