But--I was born too soon or you too
late. I cannot, must not, have you, without outraging certain laws which
must be respected. The only thing, then, is to bow to these laws. I
belong to a generation older than yours, and before I knew that you
existed my boy had chosen--and won--you. So you must be his. We have
dreamed, my Brigit, through the last few months, and now we must awaken.
You must marry Theo, and he will take you away for a few months, and
when you come back as his--wife, I shall--I _will_ have learned to love
you in the only way I can love you without shame--as my daughter."
It is curious, but strictly according to the laws of the feminine
logic, that as he made this speech, haltingly, painfully, but with
resolution in every word of it, Brigit's mind should slowly change to a
feeling of resentment.
She herself had made up her mind to marry Theo, and she had seen plainly
that this was fitting and wise; yet Joyselle's acceptance of these facts
stirred her to rebellion, and once more she protested against his
voicing of her own determination. "You are quite right," she said
coldly; "it is only a pity that we did not see all this before!"
And in his turn he winced.
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