"But I won't go away," said Tom speaking out boldly, "I mean to stick to it. Ayala, I don't believe you understand that I am thoroughly in earnest."
"Why shouldn't I be in earnest, too?"
"But I love you, Ayala. I have set my heart upon it. You don't know how well I love you. I have quite made up my mind about it."
"And I have made up my mind."
"But Ayala—" Now the tenor of his face changed, and something of the look of a despairing lover took the place of that offensive triumph which had at first sat upon his brow. "I don't suppose you care for any other fellow yet."
There was the angel of light. But even though she might be most anxious to explain to him that his suit was altogether impracticable she could say nothing to him about the angel. Though she was sure that the angel would come, she was not certain that she would ever give herself altogether even to the angel. The celestial castle which was ever being built in her imagination was as yet very much complicated. But had it been ever so clear it would have been quite impossible to explain anything of this to her cousin Tom. "That has nothing to do with it," she said.
"If you knew how I love you!" This came from him with a sob, and as he sobbed he went down before her on his knees.
"Don't be a fool, Tom,—pray don't. If you won't get up I shall go away. I must go away. I have heard all that there is to hear. I told them that there is no use in your coming."
"Ayala!" with this there were veritable sobs.
"Then why don't you give it up and let us be good friends."