"Well, make haste," he said pettishly. "I'm awfully tired. I've been
sitting here all the evening. Why couldn't you come and talk before?"

"I will not keep you long," she answered very steadily now. "I think,
Gregory, it would be better if you and I were never to be married."

"Good Heaven! Em, what do you mean? I thought you were so fond of me?
You always professed to be. What on earth have you taken into your head
now?"

"I think it would be better," she said, folding her hands over each other,
very much as though she were praying.

"Better, Em! What do you mean? Even a woman can't take a freak all about
nothing! You must have some reason for it, and I'm sure I've done nothing
to offend you. I wrote only today to my sister to tell her to come up next
month to our wedding, and I've been as affectionate and happy as possible.
Come--what's the matter?"

He put his arm half round her shoulder, very loosely.

"I think it would be better," she answered, slowly.

"Oh, well," he said, drawing himself up, "if you won't enter into
explanations you won't; and I'm not the man to beg and pray--not to any
woman, and you know that! If you don't want to marry me I can't oblige you
to, of course."

She stood quite still before him.