"Do you think I should give you up, that I should be content to say, 'I'm very sorry, sir,' and go off--leave you--keep away from you!" He laughed again, and she nestled a little closer, and her small hand closed a little more tightly on his arm.

"And you wouldn't give me up, refuse to see me, even if your father withheld his consent, would you, Ida ?" he asked.
She looked straight before her dreamily.

Then raised her eyes to his gravely.
"No; I could not.

It is just that.

I could not.