Before the lovers, which it wanted no moment to make them, left the room, they had agreed that Annie must at once leave the house. Hector took her to her mother’s door, and when he returned he found that his father and mother had retired. But it may be well that I should tell a little more of what had passed between the lovers before they parted. Annie’s first thought when they were left together was, “Alas! what will my mistress say? She must think the worst possible of me!” “Oh, Hector!” she broke out, “whatever will your mother think of me?” “No good, I’m afraid,” answered Hector honestly. “But that is hardly what we have to think of at this precise moment.” “Take back what you said!” cried Annie; “I will promise you never to think of it again--at least, I will _try_ never once to do so. It must have been all my fault--though I do not know how, and never dreamed it was coming. Perhaps I shall find out, when I think over it, where I was to blame.” “I have no doubt you are capable of inventing a hundred reasons--after hearing your awful guilty confession to my father, you little innocent!” answered Hector. And the ice thus broken, things went on a good deal better, and they came to talk freely. “Of course,” said Hector, “I am not so silly or so wicked as to try to persuade you that my mother will open her arms to you. She knows neither you nor herself.” “Will she be terribly angry?” said Annie, with a foreboding quaver in her voice. “Rather, I am afraid,” allowed Hector. “Then don’t you think we had better give it up at once?” “Never forever!” cried Hector. “That is not what I fell in love with you for! I will not give you up even for Death himself! He is not the ruler of our world. No lover is worthy of the name who does not defy Death and all his works!” “I am not afraid of him, Hector. I, too, am ready to defy him. But is it right to defy your mother?” “It is, when she wants one to be false and dishonorable. For herself, I will try to honor her as much as she leaves possible to me. But my mother is not my parents.” “Oh, please, Hector, don’t quibble. You would make me doubt you!” “Well, we won’t argue about it. Let us wait to hear what _your_ mother will say to it to-morrow, when I come to see you.” “You really will come? How pleased my mother will be!” “Why, what else should I do? I thought you were just talking of the honor we owe to our parents! Your mother is mine too.” “I was thinking of yours then.” “Well, I dare say I shall have a talk with _my_ mother first, but what _your_ mother will think is of far more consequence to me. I know only too well what my mother will say; but you must not take that too much to heart. She has always had some girl or other in her mind for me; but if a man has any rights, surely the strongest of all is the right to choose for himself the girl to marry--if she will let him.” “Perhaps his mother would choose better.”