ow that Anne despises you. Her mother acknowledges
that much at least,--and, curse her, without shame!"
"I am quite well aware of the fact, Braden," said the old man. "You
couldn't expect her to love me, could you?"
"Then, why in God's name are you marrying her? Why are you spoiling my
life? Why are you--"
"Is it spoiling your life to have the girl you love turn to and marry an
old wreck such as I am, just because I happen to be willing to pay her two
million dollars,--in advance, you might say? Is that spoiling your life or
saving it?"
Mr. Thorpe had dropped the cynical, half-amused air, and was now speaking
with great intensity. Braden, struck by the change, turned suddenly to
regard the old man with a new and puzzled light in his lowering eyes.
"See here, my lad, you've had your chance. I knew what I was about when I
sent you to see her. I knew precisely what would happen. She wants to
marry you, but she prefers to marry me. That isn't as ambiguous as it
sounds. Just think it over,--later on, not now, for I have something else
to say to you. Do me the honour to be seated. Thank you. Now, you've got
quite a good-sized, respectable nose upon your face. I submit that the
situation is quite as plain as that nose, if you look at it in the broad
light of understanding. If you think that I am marrying Anne because I
love her, or because I am in my dotage and afflicted with senility, you
are very much mistaken. If you think I am giving her two million dollars
as a wedding gift because I expect it to purchase her love and esteem, you
do my intelligence an injustice. If you think that I relish the prospect
of having that girl in my house from now till the day I die, worrying the
soul out of me, you are too simple for words. I am marrying her, not
because I love her, my lad, but--but because I love _you_. God forbid that
I should ever sink so low as to steal from my own flesh and blood.
Stealing is one thing, bartering another. I expect to convince you that I
have not taken anything from you that is of value, hence I am not a
malefactor."
Braden, seated opposite him, his elbows on the arms of the chair, leaned
forward and watched the old man curiously. A new light had come into his
eyes when Mr. Thorpe uttered those amazing words--"but because I love
_you_." He was beginning to see, he was beginning to analyse the old man's
motives, he was groping his way out of the fog.
"You will have hard work to convince me tha
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