“Will not a life of devotion atone for this day, Constance?” he cried. “Do you know how far-reaching are these lands? All the afternoon you drove through 166 them, and they extend as wide in the other direction. These––my name––are yours!”
A shade of color swept over her brow.
“Answer me,” he urged.
“Drive back and I will answer you.”
“Drive back and you will laugh at me,” he retorted, moodily. “You would make a woman’s bargain with me.”
“Is yours a man’s with me?” Contemptuously.
“What more can I do?”
“Undo what you have done. Take me back!”
“I would cut a nice figure doing that! No; you shall stay here.”
He spoke angrily; her disdain at his proposal not only injured his pride but awoke his animosity. On the other hand, his words demonstrated she had not improved her own position. If he meant to keep her there he could do so, and opposition made him only more obstinate, more determined to press his advantage. Had she been more politic––Juliana off the stage as well as on––she, whose artifice was glossed by artlessness––