"You cannot now," she said: "he has gone away. And what good would that have done? I would never marry any man unless I could do so with a clear and happy conscience; and if you--if you and Mabyn--see nothing in my treatment of _him_ that is wrong, then that is very strange; but I cannot acquit myself. No: I hope no woman will ever treat you as I have treated him. Look at his position--an elderly man, with few friends--he has not all the best of his life before him as you have, or the good spirits of youth; and after he had gone away to Jamaica, taking my promise with him--Oh, I am ashamed of myself when I think on all that has happened!" "Then you've no right to be," said he hotly. "It was the most natural thing in the world--and he ought to have known it--that a young girl who has been argued into engaging herself to an old man should consider her being in love with another man as something of rather more importance--of a good deal more importance, I should say. And his suffering? He suffers no more than this lump of rock does. That is not his way of thinking--to be bothered about anything. He may be angry, yes--and vexed for the moment, as is natural--but if you think he is going about the world with a load of agony on him, then you're quite mistaken. And if he were, what good could you do by making yourself miserable as well? Wenna, do be reasonable, now." Had not another, on this very spot, prayed her to be reasonable? She had yielded then. Mr. Roscorla's arguments were incontrovertible, and she had shrinkingly accepted the inevitable conclusion. Now, young Trelyon's representations and pleadings were far less cogent, but how strongly her heart went with him! "No," she said, as if she were shaking off the influence of the tempter, "I must not listen to you. Yet you don't seem to think that it costs me anything to ask you to bid me good-bye once and for all. It should be less to you than to me. A girl thinks of these things more than a man--she has little else to think of; he goes out into the world and forgets. And you--you will go away, and you will become such a man as all who know you will love to speak of and be proud of; and some day you will come back; and if you like to come down to the inn, then there will be one or two there glad to see you. Mr. Trelyon, don't ask me to tell you why this should be so. I know it to be right: my heart tells me. Now I will say good-bye to you." "And when I come back to the inn, will you be there?" said he, becoming rather pale. "No: you will be married to a man whom you will hate." "Indeed, no," she said, with her face flushing and her eyes cast down. "How can that be after what has taken place? He could not ask me. All that I begged of him before he went away was this--that he would not ask me to marry him; and if only he would do that I promised never to see you again--after bidding you good-bye, as I do now."