“But I don't love you, and I never shall,” said Ida, indignantly.
“Now don't you go to saying that,” said Dick. “You'll break my heart, you will, and then Peg will be a widow.”
To give effect to this pathetic speech, Dick drew out a tattered red handkerchief, and made a great demonstration of wiping his eyes.
The whole scene was so ludicrous that Ida, despite her fears and disgust, could not help laughing hysterically. She recovered herself instantly, and said, imploringly, “Oh, do let me go, and father will pay you; I'm sure he will.”
“You really think he would?” said Dick.
“Oh, yes; and you'll tell her to carry me back, won't you?”
“No, he won't tell me any such thing,” said Peg, gruffly; “and if he did, I wouldn't do it; so you might as well give up all thoughts of that first as last. You're going to stay here; so take off that bonnet of yours, and say no more about it.”
Ida made no motion towards obeying this mandate.
“Then I'll do it for you,” said Peg.
She roughly untied the bonnet, Ida struggling vainly in opposition, and taking this with the shawl, carried them to a closet, in which she placed them, and then, locking the door, deliberately put the key in her pocket.