He was trying to keep his temper in the face of such a plain denial.
"I am not for marriage," she returned briefly.
"You are young to be so resolute."
"Let us not discuss the matter;" and now her tone was haughty, forbidding.
"A father would have authority to change your mind, or a guardian."
"But I have no father, you know."
He nodded doubtfully. She felt rather than saw the incredulous half smile. Had he some plot in hand? Why should she distrust him so?
"Jeanne, we were such friends in that old time. I have carried you in my arms when you were a light, soft burthen. I have held you up to catch some branch where you could swing like a cat. I have hunted the woods with you for flowers and berries and nuts, and been obedient to your pretty whims because I loved you. I love you still. I want you for my wife. Jeanne, you shall have silks and laces, and golden gauds and servants to wait on you—"
"I told you, Monsieur, I was not for marriage," she interrupted in the coldest of tones.
"Every woman is, if you woo her long enough and strong enough."