“You startled me; I did not see you till you spoke.” “Stop, if you please, Julia. I have built my bridge. Have you built yours?” “I am not a bridge builder.” “We are still on opposite sides of the stream, Julia. If you come over you are mine,” laughed Dick. “Of course you do not expect me to go over in the face of a threat,” she replied, turning abruptly on her heel, and walking away. Dick was vexed. “Julia!” “Well, Dick?” “I am going to build a monument on the spot where you stood,” he added, joining her. “I protest; it would obstruct the path.” “Then I will remove the bridge and the path. I wish the bridge were burned up.” “Burn it then.” “It has become hateful to me.” “Keep away from it then.” “Don’t you think I had better leave Pine Hill?” “Certainly, if you wish.” “Are you quite willing to see me no more?” “I should endeavor to be resigned, if such were your majesty’s pleasure.” Why didn’t she ask him why he would build a monument, burn the bridge, leave Pine Hill, see her no more? It was very provoking of her not to help him even with a little encouragement. “I thought you loved me, Julia--just a little,” said he. “What made you think so?” “You told me so.” “But I have had time to repent of my folly.” “Are you in earnest, Julia?” “Are you, Dick?” “Your question is not an answer to mine.” “Then I will not ask or answer any questions.” “Have I offended you, Julia? If I have, forgive me.” “I forgive you, Dick. Do you wish me to go down on my knees to you?” “No, no; I will go down on my knees to you.” “Don’t do it; the ground is damp; you would get the rheumatism in your joints, and injure your clothing.” “Julia, I love you!” exclaimed Dick, desperately. “But you wish me to go to you, instead of your coming to me. You wish me to unsex myself,” pouted she. “Far from it.” “Must I cross the bridge alone? You did not even come after me.” “I have come now.” “Tardily.” “May I lead you over the bridge?” “You may.” “In the sense I meant before?” “Not yet.” “I love you, Julia. Will you not thus make me happy?” They had returned to the verge of the bridge, where she stopped. “Not yet. This is the site of your monument?” “Yes.” “For what?” “To mark the sad spot where you refused me; where you virtually said you did not love me.” “Very pretty; but a very weak idea for a sensible man. Why burn the bridge?” “Because it has been associated with all my thoughts of you.” “A good reason for burning it!” “They would be sad thoughts, if you and I are to remain on opposite sides of the stream.” “We are on the same side now; brought together by your coming over, and not by my going over.” “Will you go over with me, Julia?” “If you wish.” “In the sense I meant?” “In any sense you please.” “Come!” They crossed the bridge. “Do you love me, Julia?” She gave him her hand. “You do love me!” “I do, Dick!”