Stafford is distinguished looking and a
gentleman, as well as rich, will you please tell me what kind of a man
you want?"
The girl made no reply, but with a thoughtful expression on her face,
gazed through the window. It was now quite dark outside and the river
below was dotted here and there with the lights of steamboats and
sailing boats as they made their way up and down the broad stream.
Jim's chance remark had set her thinking. Others beside herself were
speculating as to the purport of Mr. Stafford's attentions? That they
were honorable she had not the slightest doubt, although at one time
she had been a little afraid of him. Those invitations to dinner and
his manner on one or two occasions she had rather resented, but for
some time past now he had quite changed. He was more respectful, more
sincere. Supposing the impossible were to happen--supposing he were to
ask her to be his wife? For all she knew, the proposal might come that
very evening. It might be part of the plan of this sudden impromptu
dinner. What would she say to him? Did she love him? Frankly she did
not--yet. Could she ever love him? The answer to that was in the
future. Ought a girl to marry a man whom she knew in her heart she did
not love? He was rich, the marriage was in every way desirable. She
would have every comfort, but could real happiness come of a marriage
which on both sides would be, after all, only a mockery, a hollow
sham?
Jimmie, impatient, repeated his question.
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