"’I can see her now, standing there stamping her foot at me, her eyes flashing, her cheeks like flame. The rage in her flared up, then died down as quickly. That was her way. The heat in _me_ has a different habit. It smolders and grows until it seems to freeze me with its white intensity. It is my bosom-enemy which I am trying to conquer. I had not done it then. "You are right," I said. "I had forgotten. I had forgotten everything except that you are the girl I loved, who I thought loved me. You have done well to remind me of my place. I will never forget it again, or that you are _my master’s daughter_." "’With that I turned, and left her standing, stunned, bewildered, in Cherry Lane. I could see she did not realize what had happened. She thought I would come back. She waited for me. And so I did come back, but not to let her see me. Only to watch over her, that no harm should befall, for the spot was lonely and far from the house, and dusk was about to fall. When the first star showed, she went home. I could hear her crying softly, all the way. She would cry, then stop to dry her tears, and call me names through her sobbing. "’There were no more meetings after that, though she _got in my way_ more than once, as I went about my duties. I knew very well what she wanted, but I could not relent. What my dear mother used to call my dumb demon had taken possession of me. It would not let me speak. Would not let me write to answer any of the letters Idea sent me begging me to meet her when the sun went down. "’Then, one day, I was summoned before the Squire. She had told him. "’He was waiting for me in his library, clad in his riding-clothes just as he had come from horseback. He carried a riding-crop. His face was of a dull reddish color, his eyes green. He began, the moment I entered the door, to assail me, standing with his back to it, his legs planted wide. "’"You miserable beggar!" he brandished his crop in my face. "First, you have the insolence to make love to my daughter, then you insult her by refusing, when she _stoops_ to offer you her hand in reconciliation." "’"That is precisely the point," I heard myself say. "’Tis because she _stoops_." The words were no sooner out, than Idea was clinging to me. "I’m not proud any more, Daniel," she cried. "I’ll never stoop again. If you’ll only forgive me this once, I’ll promise never to vex you any more. Please, Daniel, please!" "’The Squire snatched her wrist. "Silence!" he thundered, and would have swung her violently aside, but I prevented it. I saw the old look in her eyes. "’"Then come with me," I said, "now—this hour. Marry me and——" "’Her father flung himself between us, when she would have come to me. He swore he would disown her. No shilling of his should she ever get. She should be a beggar—married to a beggar. "’I saw her shrink. She could not face it. When I saw that, I turned to go, but the Squire stopped me.