"I will not," she answered viciously. "Do not touch me."
I still held her by the arm and said: "I do not wish to marry you. I spoke only because your father desired me to do so, and because my refusal to speak would have offended him beyond any power of mine to make amends. I could not tell you that I did not wish you for my wife until you had given me an opportunity. I was forced to throw the burden of refusal upon you."
"That is but a ruse—a transparent, flimsy ruse," responded the stubborn, angry girl, endeavoring to draw her arm from my grasp.
"It is not a ruse," I answered. "If you will listen to me and will help me by acting as I suggest, we may between us bring your father to our way of thinking, and I may still be able to retain his friendship."
"What is your great plan?" asked Dorothy, in a voice such as one might expect to hear from a piece of ice.
"I have formed no plan as yet," I replied, "although I have thought of several. Until we can determine upon one, I suggest that you permit me to say to your father that I have asked you to be my wife, and that the subject has come upon you so suddenly that you wish a short time,—a fortnight or a month—in which to consider your answer."
"That is but a ruse, I say, to gain time," she answered contemptuously. "I do not wish one moment in which to consider. You already have my answer. I should think you had had enough. Do you desire more of the same sort? A little of such treatment should go a long way with a man possessed of one spark of honor or self-respect."
Her language would have angered a sheep.
"If you will not listen to me," I answered, thoroughly aroused and careless of consequences, "go to your father. Tell him I asked you to be my wife, and that you scorned my suit. Then take the consequences. He has always been gentle and tender to you because there has been no conflict. Cross his desires, and you will learn a fact of which you have never dreamed. You have seen the manner in which he treats others who oppose him. You will learn that with you, too, he can be one of the cruelest and most violent of men."
"You slander my father. I will go to him as you advise and will tell him that I would not marry you if you wore the English crown. I, myself, will tell him of my meeting with Sir John Manners rather than allow you the pleasure of doing so. He will be angry, but he will pity me."