Maeve Sutton returned home, fuming. She saw her parents watching TV, sat on the sofa, picked up a teacup from the table, and drained it in one gulp. Then she said, "Dad, I really don't want to marry a man like William Chapman. Can't you find someone else?"
"We've already accepted the betrothal gifts. Who's going to lose face if we return them now?"
"What's more important? Your reputation, or my happiness for the rest of my life?"
"Reputation is more important. Marriage is marriage, no matter who the man is. We've supported you at home for long enough. You need to remember, you have a younger brother. If you don't get married, it'll be hard for him to find a wife."
"So… if I don't get married for the rest of my life, does that mean my brother can't get married either?"
She shot to her feet and stormed upstairs.
Slamming the door shut, Maeve Sutton felt that her life was a complete tragedy.
