"Laurence, you are brutal."
"Darling forgive me, pardon me, I am beside myself. I am your slave, your worshipper. Oh, my heart, my love, my dearer self, be kind to one whose life is yours."
Olive dried her eyes and became more composed as Mallow changed his tone. She turned towards him with face as white as marble.
"Laurence," she said quietly--"for I dare call you Laurence--I love, I have always loved you, and I always shall love you; but I am not my own mistress. I would to Heaven that I were; but I am helpless. I must marry this man, not for the money--ah, no; the money can go, but because my dear father left a letter for me in which he urged me to obey his dying wish and marry Angus Carson. . . . If I do not, evil will come of my refusal."
"Evil, Olive! what evil?"
"I do not know. My father's letter gave no explanation. It simply said that terrible evil would come if I did not obey his wish. I dare not refuse. I dare not ignore that solemn command. Much as I love you, I must sacrifice it--yes, and you--to the memory of my father."
"You will marry Carson?" asked Laurence, his face growing pale.
Olive bowed her head. "What else would you have me do?" she asked pitifully.
"Do?" With a burst of passion, he seized her again in his arms. "Do?--I would have you become my wife."
"My father----"