“This is no time for sarcasm, however witty, Mr. Maitland; and I am sure your better feeling will tell you that I could not have come here to listen to it. Do not be offended with me for my bluntness, nor refuse what I have asked you.” “You have not asked anything from me,” said he, smiling. “Well, I will now,” said she, with more courage in her tone; “I will ask you not to go any further in this affair,--to pledge your word to me that it shall stop here.” “Remember I am but one; any promise I may make you can only take effect with the concurrence of another.” “I know nothing--I want to know nothing--of these subtleties; tell me flatly you'll not give this old man a meeting.” “I will, if you 'll only say how I am to avoid it. No, no; do not be angry with me,” said he, slightly touching the hand that rested on his arm. “I'd do far more than this to win one, even the faintest smile that ever said, 'I thank you;' but there is a difficulty here. You don't know with what he charges me.” “Perhaps I suspect it.” “It is that after paying most marked attention to his daughter, I have suddenly ceased to follow up my suit, and declared that I meant nothing by it.” “Well?” said she, quietly. “Well,” repeated he. “Surely no one knows better than you that there was no foundation for this.” “I! how should I know it?” “At all events,” replied he, with some irritation of manner, “you could n't believe it.” “I declare I don't know,” said she, hesitatingly, for the spirit of drollery had got the better even of the deep interest of the moment,--“I declare I don't know, Mr. Maitland. There is a charm in the manner of an unsophisticated country girl which men of the world are often the very first to acknowledge.” “Charming unsophistication!” muttered he, half aloud. “At all events, Mr. Maitland, it is no reason that because you don't admire a young lady, you are to shoot her papa.” “How delightfully illogical you are!” said he; and, strangely enough, there was an honest admiration in the way he said it. “I don't want to convince, sir; I want to be obeyed. What I insist upon is, that this matter shall end here. Do you mind, Mr. Maitland, that it end here?” “Only show me how, and I obey you.” “Do you mean to say that with all your tact and cleverness, you cannot find a means of showing that you have been misapprehended, that you are deeply mortified at being misunderstood, that by an expression of great humility--Do you know how to be humble?” “I can be abject,” said he, with a peculiar smile. “I should really like to see you abject!” said she, laughingly. “Do so then,” cried he, dropping on his knee before her, while he still held her hand, but with a very different tone of voice,--a voice now tremulous with earnest feeling,--continued: “There can be no humility deeper than that with which I ask your forgiveness for one word I spoke to you this evening. If you but knew all the misery it has caused me!”