Dorothy raised her eyes to his, swimming in tears, her lips quivered, but she replied, in a voice more decided than before.
"Gilbert Rushmere, I cannot be your wife. It is cruel to ask me, in the face of your father's anger."
"It is enough." He folded his arms and smiled disdainfully. "I shall not ask you again. I have sacrificed everything for you—and this is my reward."
He went up to Mr. Rushmere, and held out his hand. He was desperately angry with Dorothy.
"You hear her, father. She has refused to be my wife."
"She's a sensible girl," said the farmer.
"Perhaps she is," and Gilbert laughed bitterly. "May she never have cause to repent of her decision. A different course, however, might have made us happy."
"You have agreed to give him up then, Dorothy?" said Rushmere, eagerly eyeing the trembling girl.
Dorothy did not speak. Words rose to her lips, but to have given them utterance would have choked her. Gilbert answered in her stead.
"Yes, sir. She has yielded to your wishes—and we have nothing more to say to each other. Are you satisfied?"