"No, sir, he went," answered Olive, with a smile but with some surprise.
"Humph! He did, and what did you say, to make him come home, looking like a criminal expecting to be hung?"
"I said I couldn't love him, and I can't and don't," answered Olive, feeling provoked to think that Roger couldn't keep his own counsel.
"Tut, tut! what did you say that, for?"
"Because it's the truth; I like him very much indeed, but I don't want any lovers, I'm too young, and something else to think about," exclaimed Olive with unmistakable aversion to the thought.
"Heighty-tighty! your mother was married at eighteen," cried the old gentleman briskly.
"I can't help it, sir. I never want, or expect to marry. My work is all I want."
"Yes, but your work will fail you some time, child; a one-sided love on a single altar soon burns itself out for want of fuel. There must be
"'The happiness thrown on from kindred flames to sustain
A spark of devotion for a lifeless love.'
"The time will come when you may be alone in the world, and I'm much mistaken if your art alone will satisfy the cravings of your woman's heart."