He was leaning toward her, for his hands came down within the sweep of my vision. It was some time before she replied, and I lay there waiting, my heart beating loud. He had so impressed her that she was seeking to frame a graceful answer. Could it be that she was thinking of accepting him? She got out of the chair and her skirts whisked about as if she had turned toward the door.
I lost sight of the doctor's hand and I saw his feet move. "May, please don't go!" he pleaded.
"Doctor Bates," she said, "you insult me and the memory of my sister. I am going to marry a man that I love and that you hate, although you have seen him but once."
"You don't mean John Marston, of New Orleans?" he almost cried.
"Yes, I do. I am going to marry him."
"May, if you do I will shoot him."
She laughed. "Oh, you might kill him if called to attend him, doctor, but you will not shoot him."
"I will pass your insults, Miss. One more moment, please? Does your mother know about it?"
"I have honored you first, Doctor. See what confidence I have in you? I have made my own choice and have consulted no one. Perhaps it might have been better if my poor sister had done the same."