‘I can’t tell you that, Maggie, because it might leak out, and it involves us both. He’s been my ruin in the old country, d--n him! I don’t want him to spoil all my chances in the new.’ ‘Well, then, I’d try and forget it, if I was you, and never speak to him again. That’s more sensible than thinking of revenge.’ ‘I _will_ try and forget it--more, I will promise you never to mention it again--if you will be my wife, Maggie.’ Maggie shook her head. ‘No, Mr Farrell--_that_ I can’t never be.’ ‘But why? Don’t you like me?’ She did not answer, and he took her hand. ‘Don’t say _no_ in such a hurry, my dear girl. I’ll work for you as long as I have a pair of hands, and I’ll make you as happy as I can; and it’ll be much more comfortable to come to a home of your own than to serve in that of a stranger. Just think, now. I really like you very much--in fact, I love you, or I wouldn’t propose such a thing. Am I disagreeable to you, or can’t you love me a little in return?’ But all the answer Maggie gave was conveyed by her throwing her shawl over her face and bursting into a storm of tears. ‘Why! what is this? Have I said anything to vex you? Oh, don’t, _don’t_ cry so!’ exclaimed Farrell anxiously. But Maggie sobbed on for a few minutes without intermission. Then, suddenly stopping, she uncovered her face again, and turned to confront him. ‘Look here, Mr Farrell,’ she said, ‘don’t you never talk to me about marriage again. I ain’t a marrying woman. I shall never marry you, nor no one. Do you understand? I shall remain as I am to the last day of my life.’ ‘But why? Are you married already?’ The girl laughed harshly. ‘No! I ain’t, nor likely to be. There’s no other man in the way. You needn’t fear that.’ ‘Then I shall go on asking you till you say yes.’ ‘Mr Farrell! I tell you ’tain’t no use. I ain’t fit to be your wife. I ain’t a good girl. Now, you’ve got it, straight from the shoulder, and I hope you like it.’ For a moment Farrell was silent. It wasn’t a pleasant piece of news to hear, as he interpreted it. But he loved the woman sincerely, and he wouldn’t give her up just yet. ‘No one is good. I daresay you’re no worse than others,’ he answered presently. ‘Yes I am,’ said Maggie, ‘I’m downright bad.’ ‘What do you call “downright bad?”’ ‘I don’t know why I should tell you,’ whimpered Maggie, wiping away a fresh relay of tears; ‘but you’ve been very kind and good to me and my dear mistress, and I wouldn’t like you to think that I’m ungrateful. And I’m sure you won’t tell on me.’ ‘God forbid!’ exclaimed Farrell solemnly. ‘Well, then, I had a misfortune, and I went wrong,’ whispered Maggie, in a very low voice. ‘Poor child! Was it long ago?’ ‘Better than two years. I was only seventeen.’ ‘And where’s the brute that wronged you?’ exclaimed Farrell fiercely.