It was perilously sweet. Little ticking pulses beat in her head. A
great yearning came to her to let herself drift up on a sea of
love. That love of giving up all, which is the precious privilege,
the saving dowry or utter undoing of women, surged in upon her
heart.

She drew away her hand, not quickly, but slowly and firmly, and as
if she meant it. "I have come to a decision--I have made a vow,"
she said. She paused, and looked at Ralph a little defiantly,
hoping that he would take the law into his own hands, and forbid
the decision and disallow the vow.

But Ralph was not yet enterprising enough, and took her words a
little too seriously. He only stood looking at her and waiting, as
if her decision were to settle the fate of kingdoms.

Then Winsome emitted the declaration which has been so often made,
at which even the more academic divinities are said to smile, "I
am resolved never to marry!"

An older man would have laughed. He might probably have heard
something like this before. But Ralph had no such experience, and
he bowed his head as to an invincible fate--for which stupidity
Winsome's grandmother would have boxed his ears.

"But I may still love you, Winsome?" he said, very quietly and
gently.

"Oh, no, you must not--you must not love me! Indeed, you must not
think of me any more. You must go away."