Then he turned, snapped his fingers at Zerah and Pasco, and went out.
There ensued a dead hush for some moments. Kate had turned very white, and looked with large frightened eyes at her uncle, then at her aunt. She felt that this was but the first puff of a storm which would break in full force on her head.
Pasco stumbled to his feet, planted his right fist in the hollow of his left palm, and, coming up close to Kate, said hoarsely, “You won’t have him? You, you frog in a well! You won’t have him, the richest young chap in Coombe! I say you shall have him. You shall run after Mr. Pooke, and say it is all a mistake—you take Jan thankfully—you only said No just out of bashfulness, you did not think yourself worthy. Tell him you said No because you thought Jan was asking you against his father’s wishes. Say that now you know how the old man feels, you gratefully accept. Do you hear? Run.”
Kate did not move. Her head had fallen on her bosom when he began, now she raised it, and, looking her uncle steadily in the face, she said, “I cannot. I have told Jan my reasons.”
“Reasons, indeed! precious reasons. What are they?”
Kate did not answer. Her reasons were such as Pasco could not understand.
“Kate,” interposed Zerah in an agitated voice, “what is the meaning of this?”
“Oh, dear aunt, it is true, I cannot take Jan. I have refused him, and I cannot, will not withdraw the No. In this matter I alone am answerable, and answerable to God.”
“I insist,” stormed Pasco.
“I cannot obey,” answered Kate.