“I think you had better write and say you do not wish to see him.”
“I couldn't do that; we have known him a long time, and father has always said that we must be rude to no one. Besides, what reason could I give?”
“You need not give a reason. But let that pass. I can't see why you should meet; you can surely tell your servant to say 'Not at home,' when he calls.”
“I might be in the garden—Sally would not allow it. If John said 'Not at home,' she would run down and let him in.”
“I see you are raising difficulties—I see you do not intend to keep your promise.”
“You have been quite rude enough for one evening. You have kept me out on the beach by force till nearly ten o'clock at night, and you said that my life at the Manor House was not a pure one—I don't know what you mean. No man ever spoke to me like that before.”
“You misunderstood me. If you knew how I loved you, you would not twit me with my own words. Heaven knows I would sooner go back and drown myself in the lock than do anything or say anything that would offend you. Remember also that I asked you to be my wife.”
“You are not the first. I daresay it may appear strange to you, but others have asked me the same question before.”
“It does not seem strange to me, it only seems strange to me that every one doesn't love you, but I daresay they do. O Maggie, remember that you gave me hope, you said that you might—”
“Did I? Well, it's too late to talk any more. Goodnight. I suppose you're not coming in?”