"'Tis not the first time I have bade you mind your own business, Peter. You have no right or reason to say these things to me. 'Tis worse than your rhymes. If you were half the man he is!"
"Hard words cannot break bones, or kill love. Do what you please; say what you like,"
"'A very sandal I would be
To tread on—if trod on by thee.'
I can even rise superior to the necessity of being loved back. I love on and suffer on.
"'It is not for our good in ease to rest;
Man, like to cassia, when bruised is best.'"
"I will never love you, nor marry you. Is not that enough?"
"Too much—more than I could bear, if I believed it. But you are very young, Grace. I am often relieved to remember that you are too young to know your own mind."
She was going to deny it indignantly; but stopped, vividly conscious that he had come near the mark. Therefore sadness followed anger in her face and cooled her cheek.
"I do most seriously believe that before next year you will find me a continual joy," declared Peter. "'Tis high time the world should see what a husband awaits the making in me. Too long I've pined alone.
"'Life's a short summer—man a flower,
He dies—alas! how soon he dies.'"