Read Online Amorelle by Grace Livingston Hill - Free Book Online Page B

mother, and I found her most agreeable to the idea. She felt that you would be a most suitable wife for me, and she seems quite eager to have the marriage consummated at once. She says that she will be able to help you, teach and advise you in so many ways before she is taken from us, and she desires that no time shall be lost—”
    Suddenly Amorelle arose with protest in her eyes, her face very white.
    “Please, please, Mr. Merchant, don’t say any more—” she began earnestly, but the man lifted a restraining hand.
    “Just a minute, Miss Dean. I would like to finish, if you please!”
    There was a slight note of hauteur, almost offense, in his voice.
    Amorelle dropped into her chair again, a hopeless look in her eyes. What would it be like to be married to a man who insisted upon finishing all his elaborate sentences with a smile like that on his face?
    “And so, as I was saying,” he went on, looking steadily at the impatient girl, “she insists that we lose no time. In brief, Miss Dean, while I fully realize that you may feel it is a little soon after your recent sorrow, I have come here to offer you my hand and heart in marriage, and to suggest that the ceremony be performed at once, so that you can come immediately to your husband’s home for refuge. I shall have a right then to stand between you and the world. I feel that under the circumstances haste is quite justified. I feel that your father would quite approve and be glad to have me take you over and protect you. Now, what do you say?”
    He finished with a complacent smile and looked at Amorelle to have his suggestion ratified.
    “I shall have to say no, Mr. Merchant,” said Amorelle with her mouth in a little firm line. “I do not wish to get married.”
    “Oh, but my dear, you are not going to disappoint me, after I have waited all these years for the right one to come and the right time to ask you.”
    “It won’t be a great disappointment if you only thought of it this morning, Mr. Merchant.” Amorelle tried to smile and make light of the matter.
    “Oh, but you mistake me, Miss Dean. I have often sat in church and watched you at the organ and thought what an ideal woman you were. I have dreamed about you, thought about having the sunshine of your smile always in my home. I have admired you beyond any woman I have seen in years. I feel sure we should grow very fond of one another. I feel that you are quite queen of my heart.”
    He laid his hand on his heart and bowed low in an old-time courtly way that suddenly gave Amorelle that inane desire again to burst out laughing. She restrained herself, however, and felt a touch of pity for him. Poor soul, he had never had any youth of his own and now he was making a snatch at hers; and from horror, her feeling turned to sadness.
    “No, Mr. Merchant,” she said, shaking her head earnestly. “You have made a mistake. I am nothing but a child compared to you. I don’t want to be unkind or ungrateful for all the nice things you have said, but I must speak frankly if you insist on talking any more about this. I have always looked upon you as my father’s friend, not mine. I would never feel that you were a suitable person for me to marry, even if I wanted to marry anybody. There is far too great a difference in our ages. I don’t want to hurt you, but I can remember when you used to buy me dolls and fur bunnies for Christmas and Easter.”
    She tried to smile. But the complacent smile did not fade from the man’s face.
    “That is to me but one more advantage,” he answered. “I feel that I know you thoroughly, and you know me. We shall the more easily adjust ourselves to one another. And it may surprise you that the very fact of your youth was the thing that most recommended you to my mother as suitable. She felt that you being young would be the more pliable and easy to be trained by her than an older woman. You satisfy my mother fully, Miss Dean.”
    “But I don’t care to marry your mother,