"I have asked him, dearest."
"And he——"
"Refused! I knew it would be so. He is obstinate and eccentric. But, Celeste, his refusal need make no difference to us."
She raised her blue eyes to his face, with a look of unconcealed wonder.
"We can be privately wedded, and I will take you with me to Europe, where we will reside until I have succeeded in pacifying the squire with my course."
She stood before him, looking calmly and gravely in his face. His voice was low, but full of passion, and he saw not that earnest, sorrowful gaze.
"Say, Celeste—dearest Celeste—do you consent?" he asked, his eyes filled with fire, as he strove to clasp her. She shrank away, almost in fear, and pushed back his hands.
"Oh, Louis! don't, don't," she cried, sadly.
"But you will consent? you will go with me?" he said, eagerly, passionately.
"Oh, no, no!—no, no! I cannot—it is impossible."