close to her, and having placed his hand behind her back, was
winding his arm round her waist.

'I will not have you do that, M. Urmand,' she said, escaping from
his embrace.

'But that is no answer. Can you love me, Marie?'

'No,' she said, hardly whispering the word between her teeth.

'And is that to be all?'

'What more can I say?'

'But your uncle wishes it, and your aunt. Dear Marie, can you not
try to love me?'

'I know they wish it. It is easy enough for a girl to see when such
things are wished or when they are forbidden. Of course I know that
uncle wishes it. And he is very good;--and so are you, I daresay.
And I'm sure I ought to be very proud, because you are so much above
me.'

'I am not a bit above you. If you knew what I think, you wouldn't
say so.'

'But--'

'Well, Marie. Think a moment, dearest, before you give me an answer
that shall make me either happy or miserable.'