"You, my Zoe, want to marry that tramp of a Protestant!" Her eyes blazed in anger.

Tramp--the man with the air of a young Alexander, with a voice like the low notes of the guitar thrown to the flames! Tramp! "If I love him I ought to marry him," she answered with a kind of calmness, however, though all her body was quivering.

Suddenly she came close to her father, a great sympathy welled up in her eyes, and her voice shook.
"I do not want to leave you, father, and I never meant to do so.

I never thought of it as possible; but now it is different.

I want to stay with you; but I want to go with him too." Presently as she seemed to weaken before him, he hardened.