"Is your answer final, Frances?"
"Yes—yes. I wish I had not kept you a week in suspense; it was cruel to you, but I thought—oh, I must not keep my father."
"Your father has you always, and this is my last moment. Then you'll never, never love me?"
"I can not marry you, Philip."
"That is no answer. You never loved me."
"I can not marry you."
"I won't take 'no' unless you say with it, 'I never loved you; I never can love you.'"
"Look at my father, Philip; he is almost falling. His face is crimson. I must go to him. God bless you!"
She took his hand, and absolutely, before the squire's horrified eyes, raised it to her lips, then flew lightly down the path, and joined the old man.
"Is anything wrong, father? How dreadful you look!"