"He is not friendly to you?"

"No."

I had a little struggle with myself.

"See here, Swain," I said, "sit down and let us talk this thing over
calmly. Before I promise anything, I should like to know more of the
story. From the glimpse I caught of Miss Vaughan, I could see that she
is very beautiful, and she also seemed to me to be very young."

"She is nineteen," said Swain.

"Her father is wealthy, I suppose?"

"Very wealthy."

"And her mother is dead?"

"Yes."

"Well," I began, and hesitated, fearing to wound him.

"I know what you are thinking," Swain burst in, "and I do not blame
you. You are thinking that she is a young, beautiful and wealthy girl,
while I am a poverty-stricken nonentity, without any profession, and
able to earn just enough to live on--perhaps I couldn't do even that,
if I had to buy my clothes! You are thinking that her father is right
to separate us, and that she ought to be protected from me. Isn't that
it?"