This roused Colin.
“No; I don’t wish to see them,” he said angrily. “I wish to talk to you, Jeanne D’Arc.”
“I am listening, Colin.” Jeanne quietly finished the hill which she was hoeing, then began on the next row, which was further removed from the youth, the tall heads of the artichokes nodding stiffly between them.
“But I can’t talk while you are hoeing,” he exclaimed. “And your father told me that I might talk to you.”
Jeanne laid down the hoe, and confronted him.
“Colin,” she said gravely, “mother told me that you would come, and why; but it is of no use. There are other girls in the village who would gladly marry you. I am resolved not to wed.”
“I don’t want any other girl for a wife but you, Jeanne. I have always liked you, and you know it. Besides, your father––”
“You cannot wed a girl against her will, Colin, and I shall not marry you. I am talking plainly, so that you will understand, and not waste your time.”
“But you shall,” muttered the boy wrathfully. “Your father tells me that you shall.”