“No,” said Ellen, merciless, because she was sick from fear.
“Ellen—Ellen—”
“Listen,” interrupted Ellen. “I did not ask you for that promise. You offered it.”
“I know—I know. But I did not think then that I could ever care for anyone again.”
“You offered it,” went on Ellen unmovably. “You promised it over our mother’s Bible. It was more than a promise—it was an oath. Now you want to break it.”
“I only asked you to set me free from it, Ellen.”
“I will not do it. A promise is a promise in my eyes. I will not do it. Break your promise—be forsworn if you will—but it shall not be with any assent of mine.”
“You are very hard on me, Ellen.”
“Hard on you! And what of me? Have you ever given a thought to what my loneliness would be here if you left me? I could not bear it—I would go crazy. I cannot live alone. Haven’t I been a good sister to you? Have I ever opposed any wish of yours? Haven’t I indulged you in everything?”
“Yes—yes.”