Page:The Prussian officer, and other stories, Lawrence, 1914.djvu/148

 “For yourself, you would rather stay?” said Mary.

“It’s my home,” he said, “and that’s the house I was born in.”

“Then”—Mary turned clearly to her parents, “I really don’t see how you can make the conditions, papa. He has his own rights, and if Louisa wants to marry him——”

“Louisa, Louisa!” cried the father impatiently. “I cannot understand why Louisa should not behave in the normal way. I cannot see why she should only think of herself, and leave her family out of count. The thing is enough in itself, and she ought to try to ameliorate it as much as possible. And if——”

“But I love the man, papa,” said Louisa.

“And I hope you love your parents, and I hope you want to spare them as much of the—the loss of prestige, as possible.”

“We can go away to live,” said Louisa, her face breaking to tears. At last she was really hurt.

“Oh, yes, easily,” Durant replied hastily, pale, distressed.

There was dead silence in the room.

“I think it would really be better,” murmured the vicar, mollified.

“Very likely it would,” said the rough-voiced invalid.

“Though I think we ought to apologize for asking such a thing,” said Mary haughtily.

“No,” said Durant. “It will be best all round.” He was glad there was no more bother.

“And shall we put up the banns here or go to the registrar?” he asked clearly, like a challenge.