"Yes."
"Ralph Ingle was here yesterday."
"I thought I saw him vanishing from the door as I came."
"Yes, he was here, and he asked me again to marry him."
"And thou—"
"I told him for the fortieth time that marriage was not for me."
"Did that settle it?"
"Nay, he only smiled."
"Insolent fellow!"
"No, Cousin, there is no insolence in Ralph Ingle, but something which frights me more,—or did till to-day,—a calm biding of his time, as though in the end, struggle against fate as I would, he must triumph and I must yield."