Under the circumstances she had better not stay.

She would come again very soon.
'No, I can't, I can't let you go!' Bevis exclaimed, softening his gay tone as he stood before her.

'How shall I entreat you?
If you knew what an unforgettable delight it will be to me to make you a cup of tea! I shall think of it at Bordeaux every Saturday.' She had risen, but exhibited no immutable resolve.
'I really must go, Mr.Bevis--!' 'Don't drive me to despair.

I am capable of turning my poor sisters out of house and home--flat and home, I mean--in anger at their delay.

On their account, in pity for their youth, do stay, Mrs.Widdowson! Besides, I have a new song that I want you to bear--words and music my own.