Roderick Barclugh now looked at Mollie, who instantly felt that some great ordeal was impending. He arose and took Mollie’s hands in both of his as he knelt at her side, and pleaded: “Miss Greydon, I have loved you since that day I first met you at your father’s table. My life is a void without your presence at my side. Will you be my wife?” he asked as he took Mollie’s hand and pressed it to his lips. Mollie sat in her chair as though she were fashioned from marble. Her beautiful face was transfixed away from Barclugh, and her gaze was that of a frightened fawn. She could not answer. At length Barclugh pleaded: “Speak! Mollie, speak! My heart and my life go out to you with sincerity and love! Will you consent to be my bride, and make me the most favored man on earth?” Mollie arose and went to the other end of the library table, and looking at her lover said: “It is impossible that you could love me, Mr. Barclugh. I am a Quakeress.” “That matters not, my dear Mollie. I have learned that God’s loving kindness resides within the hearts of your people. I was saved from an untimely death by the love and kindness of your dear father, and I know that you had no less to do with it than he. So I feel that I am the one to be unworthy of any affection that your heart possesses,” contended Barclugh. “I am highly complimented, Mr. Barclugh, by your kindly and unexpected attentions to me, but I feel so unable to render any one happy that I could not answer you at once. I must have time for meditation and consultation with my parents.” “There is no reason, dearest, why you ought not to have time. If you will only consent to consider my love, so that I shall have an opportunity to prove my worthiness, I shall be more than happy. Promise me this much, Mollie. I shall then have a chance to show you how much I love you?” pleaded Barclugh passionately. Mollie sat down at the end of the table, buried her face in her arms and began to sob and weep pitifully, and Barclugh stood disconsolately at the other end of the table. At length Barclugh went to the end of the table where Mollie sat, and taking her hand in his, he knelt at her side, and pleaded earnestly: “Mollie, will you satisfy the longing of my heart by promising me that you will answer me in a month? Just give me a ray of hope, that I may live for your sake. Mollie, just promise me, just promise.” Between the sobs that fairly tore the heart’s moorings of Barclugh, Mollie replied, feebly: “In a month, Mr. Barclugh.” Barclugh then took her hand and kissed it until he was beside himself; then he arose and left Mollie alone in the library. He resolved to go to his own lodgings the next morning, determined to win his loved one by the ardor of his attentions.