Maggie trembled. It was ridiculous to think of such a thing. Surely he did not mean to drown her if she refused to promise. Charlie was going to London in a few days; he would be away for three or four months. Heaven only knows what would happen in that time. She didn't see what right Frank had to bully her—to extort promises from her by night on the edge of a dangerous lock. But a promise wasn't much, and a promise given in such circumstances was not a promise at all.
“If you are really in earnest—if you think it is for my good, I'll promise you not to see him again.”
“O Maggie, if you only knew what a load of trouble you have taken off my mind! Thank you—give me your hand, and let me thank you. I know I am right. And now, tell me, can you love me? Will you marry me?”
“I will promise nothing more to-night; we shall see how you behave yourself,” the girl replied winningly. “And now go on, sir, we have been here quite long enough.”
He crossed the gate mechanically, she followed eagerly, and when she reached the other side her heart beat with pride at her pretty triumph. Now I'll twit him, she thought, as they ascended the shore and entered the town.
“I wonder why you think Charlie so wicked; I think if you knew him you would change your opinion.”
“I am very thankful indeed that I do not know him.”
The conversation dropped, but a moment after he gave her the chance she wanted.
“Mind you have promised me not to see him again. I trust you.”
“But suppose he calls and if I should be in the drawing-room, I cannot walk out of the room without speaking to him.”