"Saved my life, how? Only for his presence yesterday, I should not now be lying idle."
"I am not talking about yesterday," she replied; "I mean, when he saved you from drowning in the quarry at the risk of being himself dragged in."
"It means that he is not a 'pasteboard fellow,' as you say; it means that you ought to acknowledge his kindness; it means that you should be thankful for the great service which he rendered you."
"If I owe him anything, let him say so and I will pay him," he replied. He had not the slightest intention of doing so.
"You owe him a debt of gratitude, and you should bless him; instead of that you curse him," she said, her lips quivering and the tears rushing to her eyes. The idea of her beloved being cursed.
"Yes, I hate him," said the farmer, "I cordially distaste that dirty rat; he is the worm that eats my bones; but, you never shall marry him; do you hear? never."
"I will never marry anyone else," she said, her face assuming a desperate calmness.
"Father," she said, her face almost as white as the cloth which she was spreading on the table, "it is useless to speak any more about it, it pains me to have to speak thus to you, but I will never marry Tom Soher."
She heard the grinding of her father's teeth.
"If I did so," she continued; "I feel that I should commit a great sin; I never could love him, therefore his life with me would be miserable; he would feel lonely, and, I am afraid, would soon return to his former habits of intemperance. Then I should be breaking my word, for I have promised----"
She did not go on; her father's eyes were riveted on her with a terrible look. She feared he was going mad. She could not proceed, mesmerized as she seemed to be under that awful gaze.
At last she turned her attention to her work.
Not another word was spoken on the subject that day.
Neither of them ate much that evening. It was almost impossible for Adèle to swallow anything. What she attempted to eat, stuck in her throat. Her father, who was seated near the fire in his accustomed place, seemed also to have lost his appetite.
At last, he thrust his food away from him with a gesture of impatience, and began moodily to contemplate the embers that were glowing in the grate. When nine o'clock--his usual hour for retiring--struck, Adèle helped him into the parlour.