For a while he was too overwhelmed by her changed attitude to make a sensible reply. When it dawned on him that she meant what she said, he appealed to her to take it back. He could not bear the thought of giving her up, or even of waiting much longer for the fulfillment of his hopes. He spoke in the most passionate tone, and his whole being seemed wrought up by his earnestness. The girl was constantly thinking, however, that this was the same way he had addressed Millicent, and that there was no trust to be placed in him.
"Calm yourself," she said, when he grew violent. "I have tried to be honest with you. I have thought of this matter a great deal. You will admit that it is of some importance to me."
"To you!" he echoed. "Yes, and to me! I do not care whether I live or die, if I am to lose you!"
She wanted to ask him if he had told Millie the same thing, but she could not without making an explanation she did not like to give.
"There are others," was all she said. "Others, who will make you happier, and be better fitted for you—in your career as a writer."
He never thought her allusion had reference to any particular person, and he answered that there was no one, there never could be any one, for him, but her. He had never loved before, he never should love again. And she listened, thinking what a capacity for falsehood and tragic acting he had developed.
After two hours of this most disagreeable scene, Roseleaf left the house, moody and despondent. It would have taken little at that moment to make him throw himself into the bosom of the Hudson, or send a bullet through his brain.
On the way to the station he met Mr. Weil, who could not help asking what was the matter.
"Oh, it's all up!" he answered. "She has refused me, and I am going to the devil as quick as I can."