"Impossible," says Mona.
"Impossible is a word only to be found in the dictionary of fools. You are not a fool. This is a mere fad of yours and I think you hardly know why you are insisting on it."
"I do know," says Mona. "First, because I would have you weigh everything carefully, and——"
"Yes, and——"
"You know your mother will object to me," says Mona, with an effort, speaking hurriedly, whilst a little fleck of scarlet flames into her cheeks.
"Stuff!" says Mr. Rodney; "that is only piling Ossa upon Pelion: it will bring you no nearer the clouds. Say you will go back to the old arrangement and marry me next month, or at least the month after."
"No."
She stands away from him, and looks at him with a face so pale, yet so earnest and intense, that he feels it will be unwise to argue further with her just now. So instead he takes both her hands and draws her to his side again.
"Oh, Mona, if you could only know how wretched I was all last night," he says; "I never put in such a bad time in my life."
"Yes; I can understand you," said Mona, softly, "for I too was miserable."