"To allow yourself, O wise cousin!" she cried. "Men do not allow or
disallow themselves to love. It's deeper business than that."
"But I should have had strength not to yield."
"Is there anything discreditable in loving?" she demanded.
"There is for a priest."
"If there were, you are not a priest."
"In intention I am; and that is the same in the sight of Heaven."
She could not repress a gesture of impatience. She felt at once an
inward annoyance and a secret admiration. The temper of his mind was
exasperatingly like her own in its tenacity of conviction. He would not
excuse himself by any shifts, no matter how convincing they might seem
to others. The matter must be met fairly and frankly, and she must
reach his deepest feelings if she would move him. She reflected how
best to deal with him, and with her thoughts mingled the question
whether Edith Fenton could return Philip's love. The young man was well
made and sufficiently good-looking, although paled by study and
austerities. He was of good birth and property, and from a worldly
point of view not entirely an unsuitable match for the widow, should
she think of a second husband.
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