There was such a frown on his brow as Ivy had never seen. She quailed before it.
"Do not be angry! Alas! I am not trifling. Life itself is not worth so much as your love. But the impassable gulf is between us just the same."
"What is it? Who put it there?"
"God put it there. Mrs. Simm showed it to me."
"Mrs. Simm be—! A prating gossip! Ivy, I told you, you were never to mention that again,—never to think of it; and you must obey me."
"I will try to obey you in that."
"And very soon you shall promise to obey me in all things. But I will not be hard with you. The yoke shall rest very lightly,—so lightly you shall not feel it. You will not do as much, I dare say. You will make me acknowledge your power every day, dear little vixen! Ivy, why do you draw back? Why do you not come to me?"
"I cannot come to you, Mr. Clerron, any more. I must go home now, and stay at home."
"When your home is here, Ivy, stay at home. For the present, don't go.
Wait a little."
"You do not understand me. You will not understand me," said Ivy, bursting into tears. "I must leave you. Don't make the way so difficult."