'I cannot, I shall be late for tea; I--I--do not wish to say anything more about it,' she panted, somewhat unsteadily. 'Nay, Heartsease,' he returned, gravely, 'this is hardly using me well; let us refer the case to Aunt Milly. This naughty child,' he continued, imprisoning her hand, as she still stood beside him--and Mildred noticed now that she seemed to lean against the chair for support--'this naughty Polly of ours is giving me trouble; she will have it she is too young to be married.' Mildred put her hand suddenly to her heart; a troublesome palpitation oppressed her breathing. Polly hung her head, and then a sudden resolution seized her. 'Let me go to Aunt Milly. I want to speak to her,' she said, wrenching herself gently from his hold; and as he set her free, she dropped on the rug at Mildred's side. 'You must not come to me to help you, Polly,' said Mildred, with a faint smile; 'you must be guided in this by Dr. Heriot's wishes.' 'Ah, I knew you would be on my side, Miss Lambert; but you have no idea how obstinate she is. She declares that nothing will induce her to marry until her nineteenth birthday.' 'A whole year!' repeated Mildred, in surprise. She felt like a prisoner, to whom the bitterness of death was past, exposed to the torturing suspense of a long reprieve. 'Oh, Aunt Milly, ask him not to press me,' pleaded the girl; 'he is so good and patient in everything else, but he will not listen to me in this; he wants me to go home to him now, this Christmas.' 'Why should we wait?' replied Dr. Heriot, with an unusual touch of bitterness in his voice. 'I shall never grow younger; my home is solitary enough, Heaven knows; and in spite of all my kind friends here, I have to endure many lonely hours. Polly, if you loved me, I think you would hardly refuse.' 'He says right,' whispered Mildred, laying her cold hand on the girl's head. 'It is your duty; he has need of you.' 'I cannot,' replied Polly, in a choked voice; but as she saw the cloud over her lover's brow, she came again to his side, and knelt down beside him. 'I did not mean to grieve you, dear; but you will wait, will you not?' 'For what reason, Polly?' in a sterner voice than she had ever heard from him before. 'For many reasons; because--because--' she hesitated, 'I am young, and want to grow older and wiser for your sake; because--' and now a low sob interrupted her words, 'though I love you--dearly--ah, so dearly--I want to love you more, as I know I shall every day. You must not be angry with me if I try your patience a little.' 'I am not angry,' he repeated, slowly, 'but your manner troubles me. Are you sure you do not repent our engagement--that you love me, Polly?' 'Yes, yes; please do not say such things,' clinging to him, and crying as though her heart would break. They had almost forgotten Mildred, shrinking back in the corner of her couch.