"But indeed yes. What have you to say against Rosamond's Pond? Its reputation justifies its romance."
"Neither its reputation nor its romance has anything to do with us."
"That is as it may be," he rejoined with an ardent glance. "But you haven't said no. Rosamond's Pond then to-morrow at sunset—seven o'clock?"
Lavinia was too exhausted in mind and body either to refuse or even to argue. She felt as she had felt many a time in her childhood that she was simply a waif and stray. Nothing mattered very much. It was easier to consent than to object.
"To-morrow at sunset," she faltered.
"It's a bargain," he whispered. "You won't disappoint me?"
"Haven't I given you my word? What more do you want?"
She held out her hand and he pressed it between both his, his eyes fixed earnestly on her face.
"I don't like leaving you," he pleaded. "You're pale. Your hand's cold. You look as if you might faint again. Please ..."
"No—no—no," exclaimed Lavinia vehemently. "We must part here. Good-night."