"I was hoping, Mary, you had recovered from the effects by now."
"The scars left by deep wounds are not easily forgotten."
"And such a wound never need be forgotten."
"All very fine now, Mr. Barton," replied Mary. "Seriously, I do not feel able so soon to give you an answer. The loss and disappointment to me are yet too recent; I have seen so little of you (or you of me), and have given the subject so little thought, that I am not prepared to say what I may be willing to do."
"Well, tell me, Mary, there's a dear girl, in all seriousness, what you wish in the matter, and I will try to make your wishes my law." It must, however, in justice be stated that the question was asked in such a mournful tone, and the assurance given with such a degree of hesitation, that it looked exceedingly doubtful if all that was said was really meant, or that the promise was one which would be kept.
"Since you really want to know my wishes——"
"I do, Mary!" he interrupted.
"Well, don't be so impatient, sir, and I'll try and tell you. My wish is that you press for no answer for six months, during which time we shall be able to meet as friends and become better acquainted with each other, when it may happen that friendship will not improve upon acquaintance; in which case, no harm will be done, as we shall each be able to take our own course, and be saved many useless regrets."
"Your conditions are hard, Mary, but I can't say they are unjust; nor am I afraid of the result you foreshadow."
"In that case, the subject can be again resumed. In the meanwhile, let's agree to leave the future to look after itself."