"I'll _not_ marry her!" he cried aloud.

"I _can't_ do it!" But even as he spoke he knew that he could, and would, and must.

He had been a miserable excuse for a lover to Theresa; but Theresa had never had love.

All the men who had approached her with "intentions" had been fighting hard against their own contempt of themselves for seeking a wife for the sake of her money, and their efforts at love-making had been tame and lame; but Theresa, knowing no better, simply thought men not up to the expectations falsely raised by the romances and the songs.

She believed _she_ could not but get as good a quality of love as there was going; and Ross, with his delightful, aristocratic indifference, was perfectly satisfactory.