"I suppose so," dismally; tears are still wetting the sweet eyes she turns up to his.
"Dulce! let me understand you," says Roger, gravely. "You are quite sure you don't care for him?"
"Quite," says Dulce, without a second's hesitation.
"Then ask him to give you up—to release you from your promise," says Roger, brightly.
"I—I'd be afraid," replies Miss Blount, drooping her head.
"Nonsense!" says Roger (of course it is not he who has to do it). "Why should you feel nervous about a thing like that? You don't want to marry him, therefore say so. Nothing can be simpler."
"It doesn't sound simple to me," says Dulce, dolefully.
Just at this moment a young man, dressed in gray, emerges from the group of alders that line the south edge of the lake, very near to where Dulce and Roger are standing. He is so situated that he is still concealed from view, though quite near enough to the cousins to hear what they are saying. The last two sentences having fallen on his ears, he stands as if spell-bound, and waits eagerly for what may come next.
"He can't possibly want to marry you if you don't want to marry him," says Roger, logically, "and you don't?" a little doubtfully still.
"I don't, indeed," says Dulce, with a sad sigh and a shake of her auburn head.