"Easier!" I repeated. "What do you mean?"
"Easier, because the sooner you know that I will not marry you the
better it will be for you and for me."
Now I could restrain myself no longer. "Why can't I marry you?" I
asked, speaking very rapidly, and, I am afraid, with imprudent energy.
"Is it any sort of condition or circumstance which prevents? Do you
think that I am forcing myself upon you at a time when I ought not to
do it? If so, you have mistaken me. Ever since I left here I have
thought of scarcely anything but you, and I have returned thus early
simply to tell you that I love you! I had to do that! I could not
wait! But as to all else, I can wait, and wait, and wait, as long as
you please. You can tell me to go away and come back at whatever time
you think it will be right for you to give me an answer."
"This is the right time," she said, "and I have given you your answer.
But, unfortunately, I did not prevent you from saying what you came to
say. So now I will tell you that the conditions and circumstances to
which you allude have nothing to do with the matter. I have a reason
for my decision which is of so much more importance than any other
reason that it is the only one which need be considered."
"What is that?" I asked, quickly.
"It is because I keep a tavern," she answered. "It would be wrong and
wicked for you to marry a woman who keeps a tavern."
Now my face flushed. I could feel it burning. "Keep a tavern!" I
exclaimed. "That is a horrible way to put it! But why should you think
for an instant that I cared for that? Do you suppose I consider that a
dishonorable calling? I would be only too glad to adopt it myself and
help you keep a tavern, as you call it."
"That is the trouble!" she exclaimed. "That is the greatest trouble. I
believe you would. I believe that you think that the life would just
suit you."
"Then sweep away the tavern!" I exclaimed. "Banish it. Leave it. Put
it out of all thought or consideration. I can wait for you. I can make
a place and a position for you. I can--"
"No, you cannot," she interrupted. "At least, not for a long time,
unless one of your scholars dies and leaves you a legacy. It is the
future that I am thinking about. No matter what you might sweep away,
and to what position you might attain, it could always be said, 'He
married a woman who used to keep a tavern.' Now, every one who is a
friend to you, who knows what is before you, if you choose to try for
it, should do everything that can be done to prevent such a thing ever
being said of you. I am a friend to you, and I am going to prevent
it."