"Don't be frightened," he said. "It
will be all right, only I have to take care of myself." How very
dear of her, he thought--to be so much worried!
"George, you ought to go away to the country!" she cried. "You
have been working too hard. I always told you that if you shut
yourself up so much--"
"I am going to take care of myself," he said. "I realize that it
is necessary. I shall be all right--the doctor assured me there
was no doubt of it, so you are not to distress yourself. But
meantime, here is the trouble: I don't think it would be right
for me to marry until I am perfectly well."
Henriette gave an exclamation of dismay.
"I am sure we should put it off," he went on, "it would be only
fair to you."
"But, George!" she protested. "Surely it can't be that serious!"
"We ought to wait," he said. "You ought not to take the chance
of being married to a consumptive."
The other protested in consternation. He did not look like a
consumptive; she did not believe that he WAS a consumptive. She
was willing to take her chances. She loved him, and she was not
afraid. But George insisted--he was sure that he ought not to
marry for six months.
"Did the doctor advise that?" asked Henriette.
"No," he replied, "but I made up my mind after talking to him
that I must do the fair and honorable thing. I beg you to
forgive me, and to believe that I know best."
George stood firmly by this position, and so in the end she had
to give way.
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