"
"How do you know that, mother?"
"I asked her. While we were drinking our tea, I asked her if she were
going to make herself Lady Thirsk. She made fun of him. She mocked the
very idea. She said he had no chin worth speaking of and no back to his
head and so not a grain of _forthput_ in him of any kind. 'Why, he can't
play a game of tennis,' she said, 'and when he loses it he nearly cries,
and what do you think, Mrs. Hatton, of a lover like that?' Those were
her words, John."
"And you believe she was in earnest?"
"Yes, I do. Jane is too proud and too brave a girl to lie--unless----"
"Unless what, mother?"
"It was to her interest."
"Tell me all she said. Her words are life or death to me."
"They are nothing of the kind. Be ashamed of yourself, John Hatton."
"You are right, mother. My life and death are by the will of God, but I
can say that my happiness or wretchedness is in Jane Harlow's power."
"Your happiness is in your own power. Her 'no' might be a disappointment
in hours you weren't busy among your looms and cotton bales, or talking
of discounts and the money market, but its echo would grow fainter every
hour of your life, and then you would meet the other girl, whose 'yes'
would put the 'no' forever out of your memory.
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