"Oh, Mr. Severance," replied Bessie, without lifting her eyes from the foaming chasm, "I hope that nothing in my actions has led you to——"
"Am I to understand that you are about to refuse me?" cried Archie, in a menacing voice that sounded above the roar of the falling waters.
Bessie looked quickly up at him, and, seeing a dark frown on his brow, drew slightly away from him.
"Certainly I am going to refuse you. I have known you scarcely more than a week!"
"That has nothing to do with it. I tell you, girl, that I love you.
Don't you understand what I say?"
"I understand what you say well enough; but I don't love you. Is not that answer sufficient?"
"It would be sufficient if it were true. It is not true. You do love me. I have seen that for days; although you may have striven to conceal your affection for me, it has been evident to every one, and more especially to the man who loves you. Why, then, deny what has been patent to all on-lookers? Have I not seen your face brighten when I approached you? Have I not seen a welcoming smile on your lips, that could have had but one meaning?"
"Mr. Severance," cried Bessie, in unfeigned alarm, "have you gone suddenly mad? How dare you speak to me in this fashion?"
"Girl," shouted Archie, grasping her by the wrist, "is it possible that I am wrong in supposing you care for me, and that the only other inference to be drawn from your actions is the true one?"
"What other inference?" asked Bessie, in a trembling voice, trying unsuccessfully to withdraw her wrist from his iron grasp.