"Dear lad! What are you saying? You should travel widely and at leisure before you commit your honour to an unconsidered vow. I desire that you first see great cities, other countries, other women—of your own caste.... And then ... if you return ... and are still of the same mind ... concerning me...."
"But you? There are other men in the world. And I must have your vows before I go!"
"Oh, if it be only mine you desire, then I promise you, John Drogue, to look at no man with kindness in your absence, think of no man excepting you, pray for none save only His Excellency and General Schuyler, dream of none, God willing, but you. And to remain in deed and thought and word and conduct constant and faithful to you alone."
"Then," said I, trembling, "I also promise——"
"No!"
"But I——"
"Wait! For God's sake mind what you say; for I will not have it that your honour should ever summon you hither and not your heart! No! Let be as it is."
Her sudden warmth and the quick flush of determination on her face checked and silenced me.
She said very coolly: "Any person of sense must know that a marriage is unsuitable between a servant to Douw Fonda and John Murray Drogue Forbes, Laird of Northesk, and a Stormont to boot!"
"Where got you that Forbes?" I demanded, astonished and angry.