“You shall not make me ridiculous, and cause the finger of scorn to be pointed at me as a jilted man.”
“Oh, but I told you not to let the engagement be known,” she remonstrated.
“I only told my Cousin Lutie—and I forgot she could not keep a secret—so the whole town knows it now, and if you break your promise, you will be known as an arrant little flirt.”
“I can’t help it. I didn’t mean to flirt, so let them say what they please. I am going away soon, so it cannot hurt me,” she returned, in helpless defiance, the color rushing back into her face, and her eyes growing dark with emotion.
Every swift change in her wonderful beauty only wound his heartstrings more tightly about her; he vowed to himself that any man would be a fool to give her up after her promise had been once gained.
So he persevered. He urged and entreated, played the devoted lover to perfection.
“But I have told you that I love another!” she cried, with the lovely blushes rising up to her brow.
“He is gone, and you will never see him again. Let that brief dream be forgotten, and give your heart to me,” urged Royall, in painful earnestness that touched her heart.
“Oh, I can never love you, and I feel I have wronged you enough already by my silly vacillation. Leave me now, for indeed all is at an end between us.”
“You are very cruel to me, Daisie,” he sighed.