"But Hilda will be true," he thought. "She is too fond of me to lose me!"
She entered the room alone, red-eyed and pale, but with a look of determination on her face which sent a chill through Arkel's heart the moment he saw it. He rose to meet her, holding out his arms in welcome. Her name sprang to his lips. But she waved him back.
"No, no, Gerald! I cannot! I cannot! We must part."
"We will not part!" cried the man furiously. "You love me and I love you—no one has the right to part us."
"I must obey my parents."
"Not if they counsel you wrongly."
"Do they counsel me wrongly?" asked Hilda. "Gerald, do be reasonable—you are poor; I am poor. How can we marry?"
"I will work for you, Hilda—with you I can do anything!"
The girl shook her head sadly.
"If you were any other sort of man than what you are, perhaps," she said with relentless common-sense. "But I know you better than you do yourself. You love pleasure and you hate work. You have always pursued the one and avoided the other. I hate poverty with all the loathing of a lifetime. We should soon tire of each other. Believe me, Gerald, love in a cottage would not suit either of us. It would be madness to attempt it. Fond as I am of you I cannot contemplate it. It isn't to be thought of."