“Mr. Calvert,” said she, “is a very sensible old man, but neither he nor you can enter into the heart of another and say what shall, or what shall not be its source of trouble. It is enough, William Hinkley, that I have my cares--at least I fancy that I have them--and though I am very grateful for your sympathies, I do not know that they can do me any good, and, though I thank you, I must yet decline them.” “Oh, do not say so, Margaret--dear Margaret--it is to proffer them that I seek you now. You know how long I have sought you, and loved you: you can not know how dear you are to my eyes, how necessary to my happiness! Do not repulse me--do not speak quickly. What I am, and what I have, is yours. We have grown up together; I have known no other hope, no other love, but that for you. Look not upon me with that scornful glance--hear me--I implore you--on my knee, dear Margaret. I implore you as for life--for something more dear than life--that which will make life precious--which may make it valuable. Be mine, dear Margaret--” “Rise, William Hinkley, and do not forget yourself!” was the stern, almost deliberate answer of the maiden. “Do not, I pray you, do not speak in those tones, dear Margaret--do not look on me with those eyes. Remember before you speak, that the dearest hope of a devoted heart hangs upon your lips.” “And what have you seen in me, or what does your vain conceit behold in yourself, William Hinkley, to make you entertain a hope?” “The meanest creature has it.” “Aye, but only of creatures like itself.” “Margaret!” exclaimed the lover starting to his feet. “Ay, sir, I say it. If the meanest creature has its hope, it relates to a creature like itself--endowed with its own nature and fed with like sympathies. But you--what should make you hope of me? Have I not long avoided you, discouraged you? I would have spared you the pain of this moment by escaping it myself. You haunt my steps--you pursue me--you annoy me with attentions which I dare not receive for fear of encouraging you, and in spite of all this, which everybody in the village must have seen but yourself, you still press yourself upon me.” “Margaret Cooper, be not so proud!”