He took the woman he
wanted--defied public opinion to do it--and it only made him the
more popular. I had always intended to strengthen myself by
marrying. If I married you I'd weaken myself politically, while if
I married some Western girl, some daughter of the people, I'd make
a great popular stroke."
"Well--do it, then," said Margaret. "By all means do it."
"Oh, but there's you," exclaimed Craig. "What'd I do about you?"
"That's true," said Margaret mockingly. "But what am I to stand
between a man and ambition?"
"I say that to myself," replied Craig. "But it's no use." His eyes
thrilled her, his voice seemed to melt her dislike, her resolve,
as he said: "There you are, and there you stay, Margaret. And
you're not at all fit to be my wife. You haven't been brought up
right. You ought to marry some man like Grant. He's just the man
for you. Why did you ever fall in love with me?"
She stopped short, stared at him in sheer amazement. "I!"
exclaimed she. "I--in love with YOU!"
He halted before her. "Margaret," he said tenderly, "can you deny
it?"
She flushed; hung her head. The indignant denial died upon her
lips.
He sighed. "You see, it is fate," said he.
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