But he continued silent and very sad.
"You will agree to do this for the sake of making me your wife?" she persisted.
"My dearest Mary, it is impossible!" he answered, with a painful effort.
"There! I knew it! Say no more! You professed great love for me once. You were willing to do, dare, or die for me, if necessary. You wished me to put you to the test, to try you, as you called it; yet, the very first time I have tested your sincerity, you have failed me, as I foresaw that you would. Good-bye, Mr. Craven Kyte. We part here, and we part forever," said Mary Grey, with cold contempt, as she turned away from him.
"No, no, no—for Heaven's sake, no!" cried the young man, piteously. "Do not leave me so suddenly. Give me time to think. Oh, I can not part with you! I must—must have you at any cost!" he muttered to himself.
She stopped and contemplated him as with scornful pity.
"Come—come into the square here and sit down. Let us talk this matter over. Pray do! Oh, I can not lose you so!" he pleaded, seizing her hand.
"Well, I will go in and sit on one of those benches for a few moments, and give you the opportunity of recovering your place in my confidence," she said, with a sort of contemptuous pity, as she turned and entered the square.
He followed her immediately, and they sat down together.