"No, I did not see him again."
"You went straight to the house?"
"Yes; father was still very violent. He had forbidden me to see Mr. Swain or to write to him. He had taken a violent dislike to him."
"Do you know why?"
"Yes," and she flushed a little, but went on bravely. "He believed that Mr. Swain wished to marry me."
"As, in fact, he did," I commented.
"Yes; or, at least, he did before his financial troubles came. After that, he wished to give me up."
"But you refused to be given up?"
"Yes," she said, and looked at me with eyes beautifully radiant. "I refused to be given up."
I felt that I was rushing in where angels would hesitate to enter, and beat a hasty retreat.