drive me out; no one else. I could stand my ground
against your mother--I feel I could; but I cannot stand against you
if you treat me otherwise than--than--"

"Otherwise than what? I want to treat you as the girl I have chosen
from all the world as my wife."

"I am sorry you should so soon have found it necessary to make a
choice. But, Mr Gresham, we must not joke about this at present. I am
sure you would not willingly injure me; but if you speak to me, or of
me, again in that way, you will injure me, injure me so much that I
shall be forced to leave Greshamsbury in my own defence. I know you
are too generous to drive me to that."

And so the interview had ended. Frank, of course, went upstairs to
see if his new pocket-pistols were all ready, properly cleaned,
loaded, and capped, should he find, after a few days' experience,
that prolonged existence was unendurable.

However, he managed to live through the subsequent period; doubtless
with a view of preventing any disappointment to his father's guests.

CHAPTER VII

The Doctor's Garden

Mary had contrived to quiet her lover with considerable propriety
of demeanour. Then came on her the somewhat harder task of quieting
herself. Young ladies, on the whole, are perhaps quite as susceptible
of the softer feelings as young gentlemen are. Now Frank Gresham was
handsome, amiable, by no means a fool in intellect, excellent in
heart; and he was, moreover, a gentleman, being the son of Mr Gresham
of Greshamsbury. Mary had been, as it were, brought up to love him.
Had aught but good happened to him, she would have cried as for a
brother. It must not therefore be supposed that when Frank Gresham
told her that he loved her, she had heard it altogether unconcerned.

He had not, perhaps, made his declaration with that propriety of
language in which such scenes are generally described as being
carried on. Ladies may perhaps think that Mary should have been
deterred, by the very boyishness of his manner, from thinking at all
seriously on the subject. His "will you, won't you--do you, don't
you?" does not sound like the poetic raptures of a highly inspired
lover. But, nevertheless, there had been warmth, and a reality in it
not in itself repulsive; and Mary's anger--anger? no, not anger--her
objections to the declarations were probably not based on the
absurdity of her lover's language.

We are inclined to think that these matters are not always discussed
by mortal