"Come, Mary, if you won't make me a promise,
say that you'll think of it"
"I have thought of it, Mr. Twentyman, and I can't make you any
other answer. I dare say I'm very foolish."
"I wish you were more foolish. Perhaps then you wouldn't be so hard
to please."
"Whether I'm wise or foolish, indeed, indeed, it's no good your
going on. Now we're on the road. Pray go back home, Mr. Twentyman."
"It'll be getting dark in a little time."
"Not before we're in Dillsborough. If it were ever so dark we could
find our way home by ourselves. Come along, Dolly."
Over the last stile he had stayed a moment to help the younger
girl, and as he did so Kate whispered a word in his ear. "She's
angry because she couldn't go up to the house with that stuck-up
fellow." It was a foolish word; but then Kate Masters had not
had much experience in the world. Whether overcome by Mary's
resolute mode of speaking, or aware that the high road would not
suit his purpose, he did turn back as soon as he had seen them a
little way on their return towards the town. He had not gone half a
mile before he met Morton, and had been half-minded to make some
apology to him. But Morton had denied him the opportunity, and he
had walked on to his own house,--low in spirits indeed, but still
with none of that sorest of agony which comes to a lover from the
feeling that his love loves some one else.
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