Then Winsome emitted the declaration which has been so often made, at which even the more academic divinities are said to smile, "I am resolved never to marry!"
An older man would have laughed. He might probably have heard something like this before. But Ralph had no such experience, and he bowed his head as to an invincible fate—for which stupidity Winsome's grandmother would have boxed his ears.
"But I may still love you, Winsome?" he said, very quietly and gently.
"Oh, no, you must not—you must not love me! Indeed, you must not think of me any more. You must go away."
"Go away I can and will, if you say so, Winsome; but even you do not believe that I can forget you when I like."
"And you will go away?" said Winsome, looking at him with eyes that would have chained a Stoic philosopher to the spot.
"Yes," said Ralph, perjuring his intentions.
"And you will not try to see me any more—you promise?" she added, a little spiteful at the readiness with which he gave his word.
So Ralph made a promise. He succeeded in keeping it just twenty- four hours—which was, on the whole, very creditable, considering.
What else he might have promised we cannot tell—certainly anything else asked of him so long as Winsome continued to look at him.