"No, my lord;—no."
"Do not answer me yet, my cousin. If I swore that I loved you,—loved you so soon after seeing you,—and loved you, too, knowing you to be so wealthy an heiress—"
"Ah, do not talk of that."
"Well;—not of that. But if I said that I loved you, you would not believe me."
"It would not be true, my lord."
"But I know that I shall love you. You will let me try? You are very lovely, and they tell me you are sweet-humoured. I can believe well that you are sweet and pleasant. You will let me try to love you, Anna?"
"No, my lord."
"Must it be so, so soon?"
"Yes, my lord."
"Why that? Is it because we are strangers to each other? That may be cured;—if not quickly, as I would have it cured, slowly and by degrees; slowly as you can wish, if only I may come where you shall be. You have said that we may be friends."