Page 346 - sons-and-lovers

‘No,’ she answered truthfully. ‘I don’t think so—we’re
too young.’
‘I thought perhaps,’ he went on miserably, ‘that you, with
your intensity in things, might have given me more—than
I could ever make up to you. And even now—if you think it
better—we’ll be engaged.’
Now Miriam wanted to cry. And she was angry, too. He
was always such a child for people to do as they liked with.
‘No, I don’t think so,’ she said firmly.
He pondered a minute.
‘You see,’ he said, ‘with me—I don’t think one person
would ever monopolize me—be everything to me—I think
never.’
This she did not consider.
‘No,’ she murmured. Then, after a pause, she looked at
him, and her dark eyes flashed.
‘This is your mother,’ she said. ‘I know she never liked
me.’
‘No, no, it isn’t,’ he said hastily. ‘It was for your sake she
spoke this time. She only said, if I was going on, I ought
to consider myself engaged.’ There was a silence. ‘And if I
ask you to come down any time, you won’t stop away, will
you?’
She did not answer. By this time she was very angry.
‘Well, what shall we do?’ she said shortly. ‘I suppose I’d
better drop French. I was just beginning to get on with it.
But I suppose I can go on alone.’
‘I don’t see that we need,’ he said. ‘I can give you a French
lesson, surely.’