"Yes, Jack; but he seemed more hurt and grieved. Oh, it was such a wretched time!"
"My poor girl! Does--does he want you to give me up?"
"All--everything. I spoke up bravely, Jack. I told him I was a woman now, and that I loved you with all my heart, and intended to marry you!"
"My own plucky Madge! And I suppose that made him the more angry?"
"No; my defiance surprised him--he thought I would yield. He talked about ingratitude, and called me a foolish girl who did not know her own mind. He looked awfully sad and stern, Jack, but when I kissed him and begged him not to be angry, he melted a little."
"No, neither of us yielded; we agreed to a sort of a tacit truce. Father did not speak of the matter again, and he went to town very early this morning, before I was up. He left word with Mrs. Sedgewick that he would not be back until late. I was sure he would go to your studio."
"I have not seen him," replied Jack; "but I hope he will come. If he doesn't I shall call on him and ask for your hand, and without delay. It is the only honorable course. Until I set things right with him, and satisfy him of my intentions, I can't blame him for thinking all sorts of evil of me."
"But he doesn't," Jack said, bitterly. "Is it likely that he will consent to let you marry a poor artist? No. But I can't--I won't--give you up, Madge!"
The girl rested her hands on his shoulders, and looked trustfully into his face.
"Dear Jack, don't worry," she whispered. "It will all come right in the end. We love each other, and we will be true. Nothing shall part us. I am yours always, and some day I will be your wife. Promise that you will believe me--that you will never be afraid of losing me!"
"I _do_ believe you, darling," Jack said, fervently. "You have made me happy again--your words have driven the clouds away. I could not live without you, Madge. Since I have known you the whole world seems brighter and better. For your sake I am going to make a name and a fortune."
He kissed her passionately, and for a few moments they stood watching the incoming tide, and talking in a lighter vein. Then they parted, and Madge slipped away toward the old house with its guardian elm trees. The memory of her last words cheered Jack as he walked to the high-road and thence to his studio. Alphonse had prepared him a tempting little supper, and he did not go to town that night.