"I would rather you said now, Mr. Sheppard, whatever you wish to say to
me."

"It is only the old story. Have you reconsidered your determination--you
remember that last day--in Keeton? I am still the same."

"So am I, Mr. Sheppard."

"But things have changed--many things; and you may want a home; and you
may grow tired of this kind of life--and I shan't be a person to be
ashamed of, Minola! I am going to be in Parliament, and you shall hear
me speak--and I know I shall get on. I have great patience. I succeed in
everything--I really do."

She smiled sadly and shook her head.

"In everything else I do assure you, so far--and I may even in that; I
must, for I have set my heart upon it."

She turned to him with a glance of scorn and anger. But his face was so
full of genuine emotion, of anxiety and passion and pain, that its
handsome commonplace character became almost poetic. His lips were
quivering; and she could see drops of moisture on his shining forehead,
and his eyes were positively glittering as if in tears.

"Don't speak harshly to me," he pleaded; "for I don't deserve it. I love
you with all my heart, and today more than ever--a thousand times
more--for you have shown yourself so generous and forgiving--and--and
like a Christian."

Then for the first time the thought came, a conviction, into her
mind--"He really is sincere!" A great wave of new compassion swept away
all other emotions.

"Mr. Sheppard," she said in softened tones, "I do ask of you not to say
any more of this. I couldn't love you even if I tried, and why should
you wish me to try? I am not worth all this--I tell you with all my
heart that I am not worth it, and that you would think so one day if I
were foolish enough to--to listen to you. Oh! indeed you are better
without me! I wish you every success and happiness. I don't want to
marry."

"Once," he said, "you told me there was no one you cared for but a man
in a book. I wonder is that so now?"

In spite of herself the color rushed into Minola's face. It was a lucky
question for her, however unlucky for him, because it recalled her from
her softer mood to natural anger.

"You can believe me in love with any one you please to select in or out
of a book, Mr. Sheppard, so long as it gives you a reason for not
persecuting me with your own attentions. I like a man in a book better
than one out of it; it is so easy to close the book and be free of his
company when he grows disagreeable.