"Are my long-winded sacrifices to the god of reason distasteful?
I believe I am involuntarily making them so because I am jealous of the fellow after all.

Nevertheless I am serious; I want you to get married; though I shall always have a secret grudge against the man who marries you.

Agatha will suspect me of treason if you don't.
Erskine will be a disappointed man if you don't.

You will be moody, wretched, and--and unmarried if you don't." Gertrude's cheeks flushed at the word jealous, and again at his mention of Agatha.

"And if I do," she said bitterly, "what then ?" "If you do, Agatha's mind will be at ease, Erskine will be happy, and you! You will have sacrificed yourself, and will have the happiness which follows that when it is worthily done." "It is you who have sacrificed me," she said, casting away her reticence, and looking at him for the first time during the conversation.
"I know it," he said, leaning towards her and half whispering the words.