you; and then you only made your crossest mouth, and turned your
back upon me."

"What had I to say to you?" she curtly replied. "I may have seen
that you were inclined to meddle with me, but I do not choose to be
on people's wicked tongues for nothing. I do not mean to have you
for a husband--neither you nor any other."

"Nor any other? So you will not always say! You say so now, because
you would not have that painter. Bah! you were but a child! You will
feel lonely enough yet, some day; and then, wild as you are, you
will take the next best who comes to hand."

"Who knows? which of us can see the future? It may be that I will
change my mind. What is that to you?"

"What is it to me?" he flew out, starting to his feet, while the
small boat leaped and danced; "what is it to me, you say? You know
well enough! I tell you, that man shall perish miserably to whom you
shall prove kinder than you have been to me!"

"And to you, what did I ever promise? Am I to blame if you be mad?
What right have you to me?"

"Ah! I know," he cried, "my right is written nowhere. It has not
been put in Latin by any lawyer, nor stamped with any seal. But this
I feel: I have just the right to you that I have to heaven, if I die
an honest Christian. Do you think I could look on and see you go to
church with another man, and see the girls go by and shrug their
shoulders at me?"