“Oh, Mr. Darrell!”
“Wait, don't drive me off yet. Your aunt told me that you refused me because you believe I have a violent temper. Now, I am not going to deny that, but this I am going to say—That I have never violated my word, and never shall, and I make a most solemn oath to you, that if you will marry me you shall never have occasion to be made unhappy or displeased by my quick anger, because you will only have to remind me of this pledge, and I shall curb my temper, if it kills me.”
“Mr. Darrell, I believe you are perfectly sincere in what you say, but a strong trait of character is not controlled easily. It is more apt to be uncontrollable.”
“For God's sake don't refuse me, I feel I must kill myself if you spurn me. I don't want life without you.”
“Don't say that,” Mary said, trying to keep calm, but she felt as if being carried away in spite of herself, by the torrent of his impetuosity. She was afraid of him, but she liked him and she liked to be loved in that passionate rebellious way of his; she smiled, adding, “we must postpone this conversation for I must go to church, and it is quite a long walk there.”
“The carriage that brought me is at the door, take it, and don't walk, it is quite warm out.”
“Will you go with me to church? You see, that is another obstacle; the difference of religions.”
“Indeed, that is no obstacle; your religion tells you to pity me.”
“We will talk to Father White about that.”
“Then Mary, my beloved, will you give me hope?”