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ANDREA REYNOLDS could J^L scarcely believe her own ears. It wasn't possible that Frank Harrison was saying, "I love you— r" that he was asking her to be his wife.
She and Frank Harrison hadn't any meeting point, for he was the richest man in Beechmont and she was a teacher who depended on her meagre salary for the material things, at least. Not only that, she was in her early twenties, untouched, untried, and he was in his middle forties — sophisticated, divorced. There was a gap of years and custom between them, as well as a money barrier. Why, it was only through his son Junior that he had come to her attention at all. She hadn't even considered him as a possible suitor. Junior — deprived of a mother's affection, inhibited, living alone in a great house with his father and a staff of servants — had seemed more pathetic to Andrea than any of her other pupils. It was only natural that she should lean toward Junior, that she should try to help him with his lessons — the child was no student, he needed help! It was only natural that she should take up Junior's problems with Frank, but she hadn't dreamed that their stilted parent-teacher consultations would lead to this!
"Mr. Harrison," she faltered, "I — really, I don't know what to — to say. You've taken me — by surprise. I — I'm at a loss."
Frank's voice, shaken with emotion, told her — "I'll be at a loss for
She whispered, "What's come over us?" And then suddenly another voice was breaking the magic, as a bubble is broken.
the rest of my days if you don't marry me — and so will Junior. Junior needs a mother and I need — you. Even if you don't love me, Andrea, marrying me will be an act of Christian charity and — " his voice roughened — "and I'll make you love me! I'll be so good to you, Andrea. I'll give you everything in the world."
Everything in the world! Andrea's mind, traveling backward, found an evening five years ago when she and her father, himself a college professor, seated in front of their fireplace, had discussed her vocation. She, at seventeen, had been so sure of her ability to rationalize living and loving. "Being a teacher," she argued, "is the greatest job in the world but it needn't blot out happiness. You managed to reconcile love and a career, dad — why do you think
that a woman can't teach and have a home — a man to love — at the same time?" There had been sadness on her father's face as he answered, "I don't think anything about it, Andygirl — I know. A man can build a partition in his heart — he can reserve one side of it for business and one side for his personal life — but a woman's different. A woman can't teach and have romance without one or the other suffering."
Her father. He was dead now and Andrea was alone in the world — more alone even than Junior, Frank Harrison's son. For Junior had Frank and she — once more the man's voice intruded on her reverie, breaking the thread of it.
"I'll give you everything," he was saying. "Not only for yourself — for others. You can help the poor peopleof this town, Andrea — you can help
Two men loved her, but only one — the wrong one — had asked her to marry him. Am
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