"Impossible! Why, Celeste?"
"It would be wrong."
"Wrong! Because an old man objects to your want of fortune, it would be wrong to marry me. Nonsense, Celeste!"
"It would be wrong to disobey your grandfather, Louis."
"Not in a case like this, Celeste. I am not bound to obey him when he is unreasonable."
"He is not unreasonable in this, Louis. It is very reasonable he should wish you to marry one your equal in wealth and social position."
"And would you have me marry for wealth and social position, Celeste?" he asked, reproachfully.
"Oh! no, no! Heaven forbid! But I would not marry you against his will. We can wait—a few years will not make much difference, dear Louis. We are both young, and can afford to be patient."
"Patience! Don't talk to me of patience!" he exclaimed, passionately. "You never loved me; if you had you would not stand thus on a little point of decorum. You are your own mistress—you have no parents to whom you owe obedience; my mother is willing enough, and yet, because an old man objects to your want of money, you stand there in your cold dignity, and exhort me to be patient and wait. Celeste, I will not wait. You must come with me to Italy!"
But she only stood before him, pale and sad, but firm and unyielding.