"Crying!" said Kate. "I could cry my eyes out to think what I have done; but it is not my fault: they egged me on. I knew you would fling those two miserable things in my face if I did, and I said so; but they would be wiser than me, and insist on my putting you to the proof."
"They? Who is they?"
"No matter. Whoever it was they will gain nothing by it, and you will lose nothing. Ah, Griffith, I am so ashamed of myself—and so proud of you."
"They?" repeated Griffith, suspiciously. "Who is this they?"
"What does that matter, so long as it was not Me? Are you going to be jealous again? Let us talk of you and me, and never mind who them is. You have rejected my proposal with just scorn; so now let me hear yours; for we must agree on something this very night. Tell me, now, what can I say or do to make you happy?"
Griffith was sore puzzled. "Alas! sweet Kate," said he, "I don't know what you can do for me now, except stay single for my sake."
"I should like nothing better," replied Kate, warmly; "but unfortunately they won't let me do that. Father Francis will be at me to-morrow, and insist on my marrying Mr. Neville."
"But you will refuse."
"I would, if I could but find a good excuse."
"Excuse? why, say you don't love him."