"Silence! I am in no mood to listen to a repetition of sentiments which, however flattering to my vanity, have no power to touch my heart. Mr. Minge, I have twice declined the offer you have done me the honor to make; and while proud of your preference, my Saxon is not so ambiguous or redundant as to leave any margin for misconception of my meaning." "My dear Salome, I fear your decision has been influenced by the consciousness that my poor, petted Constance has occasionally neglected the courtesies which you had a right to claim from the sister of the man who seeks to make you his wife." "No, sir; your sister's sneers, and the petty slights and persecutions for which I am indebted to her friend, Miss Sutherland, have not sufficient importance to affect me in any degree. My decision is based upon the unfortunate fact that I do not love you." "No woman can withstand such devotion as I bring you, and time would soon soften and deepen your feelings." "Sir, you unduly flatter yourself. Neither time nor eternity would change me, and you would do well to remember that it is my voice, sir,--not my hand and heart,--that I offer for sale." "Your stubborn rejection is explicable only by the supposition that you have deceived me,--that you have already bartered away the heart I long to call my own." "I am a miller's child,--you a millionaire, but permit me to remind you that I allow no imputation on my veracity. Why should I condescend to deceive you?" She petulantly snatched her scarf from the fingers that still stroked it caressingly; but an instant later a singular change swept over her countenance, and pressing her hands to her heart, she said in a proud, almost exultant tone,-- "Although I deny your right to question me upon this subject, you are thoroughly welcome to know that I love one man so entirely, so deathlessly, that the bare thought of marrying any one else sickens my soul." Mr. Minge turned pale, and grasped the carved balustrade against which he rested. "O Salome! you have trifled."