‘Why is it that you wish to marry me?’ she said at last. The question emerged in a blunter fashion than she had intended, and she coloured a little, but she lifted her chin and awaited his response in silence.
His smile turned quizzical. ‘Any man would wish to marry you,’ he said, with more gallantry than truth. ‘You are a young woman of sense, intelligence and beauty, and of a good family—’
‘The real reason, if you please,’ she said, cutting him off without compunction. ‘I understand perfectly why my mother and father are in favour of the match, but I do not at all comprehend why yours should be. Or why you would consent to go along with the plan. Your family is far beyond mine, in terms of fortune and connections; and for all your compliments just now, you are not in love with me.’
He
