"Very well. If you refuse me my one little wish!"
"I'll stay if you want me to," cried Tom. "I'll do anything you bid me. But do be serious for a minute, Elsie. Just answer me one question."
"Only one? Will that satisfy you?"
"To set the matter at rest," pursued he. "I'll never trouble you again. I won't open my lips——"
"Then how shall I know what you want to ask?" she interrupted.
Tom fairly groaned.
"I do believe you are a witch, Elsie; one of those snow women in the old German stories."
"Lurlei—Lurlei!" she sang, flourishing the blossoms about his head.
Tom dashed off the flowers in a blind despair. The scene was growing too much for him to bear.
"Yes," he said, drearily, "I'll go—I'll go! I shan't trouble you again. I hope the day may never come when you will be sorry, Elsie."