My angry words sprang from my love for you and my fear for your future." No girl's heart was more tender to the influence of kindness than Dorothy's.

No heart was more obdurate to unkindness or peremptory command.
My words softened her at once, and she tried to smother the anger I had aroused.

But she did not entirely succeed, and a spark remained which in a moment or two created a disastrous conflagration.

You shall hear.
She walked by my side in silence for a little time, and then spoke in a low, slightly sullen tone which told of her effort to smother her resentment.
"I do trust you, Cousin Malcolm.

What is it that you wish to ask of me?
Your request is granted before it is made." "Do not be too sure of that, Dorothy," I replied.