“You confirm me in my resolution,” said she. “I will never marry a Toy who gives way to his temper over nothing. Once for all, our engagement is at an end.”
“I cannot believe that,” he said. “Do you really mean it?”
“Certainly,” she answered.
“So be it,” he replied.
Then he got up from his chair with dignity, made a low bow, mounted his Wagon, and drove away.
“I almost wish I had not said that,” thought the haughty Beauty uneasily. “I never meant him to go away so soon. If he had stayed I should, perhaps, have altered my mind. I will tell him so when he comes to-morrow.”
But next day he did not come. Then a few tears fell from Claribelle’s haughty eyes. Nor did he come on the next, and then she shed more. Nor on the following day; nor the day after that, nor the day after that,—nor ever again! And each day poor Claribelle wept more and more, till it was sad to see her.