To answer honestly would be to confess that which had been troubling her greatly of late--the feeling that there was something profoundly unsatisfactory in the relations between Ross and herself; that what he was giving her was different not only in degree but even in kind from what she wanted, or ought to want, from what she was trying to give him, or thought she ought to try to give him.
"And you, Arthur ?" asked Hiram in the same solemn, appealing tone.
"I should not ask Janet to marry me unless I was sure I could support her in the manner to which she is accustomed," said Arthur.

"I certainly shouldn't wish to be dependent upon her." "Then, your notion of marrying is that people get married for a living, for luxury.

I suppose you'd expect her to leave you if you lost your money ?" "That's different," said Arthur, restraining the impulse to reason with his illogical father whose antiquated sentimentalism was as unfitted to the new conditions of American life as were his ideas about work.
"You see, Hiram," said Mrs.Whitney, good-humoredly, "your children outvote you." The master workman brought his fist down on the arm of his chair--not a gesture of violence, but of dignity and power.

"I don't stand for the notion that marriage is living in luxury and lolling in carriages and showing off before strangers.

I told you what my last word was, Matilda." Mrs.Whitney debated with herself full half a minute before she spoke.