"Oh, William, William, do not be
displeased with me! do not forbid it! It is honourable to work--it is
right to do what we can. Strive to see it in the right light."
"Let that carnation alone, Constance; give your attention to me. What
if I do forbid it?"
She walked a little forward, leaving the carnation bed, and halted
under the shade of the dark cedar tree, her heart and colour alike
fading. Mr. Yorke followed and stood before her.
"William, I must do my duty. There is no other way open to me, by which
I can earn something to help in this time of need, except that of
becoming a governess. Many a lady, better born than I, has done it
before me."
"A daily governess, I think you said?"
"Papa could not spare me to go out altogether; Annabel could not spare
me either; and--"
"I would not spare you," he struck in, filling up her pause. "Was that
what you were about to say, Constance?"
The rosy hue stole over her face again, and a sweet smile to her lips:
"Oh, William, if you will only sanction it! I shall go about it then
with the lightest heart!"
He looked at her with an expression she did not understand, and shook
his head. Constance thought it a negative shake, and her hopes fell
again. "You did not answer my question," said Mr. Yorke. "What if I
forbid it?"
"But it seems to be my duty," she urged from between her pale and
parted lips.
"Constance, that is no answer.
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