"Ah no, I don't forget," said Pansy, showing her pretty teeth in a fixed smile.
"Then everything is just the same?"
"Ah no, it's not just the same. Papa has been very severe."
"What has he done to you?"
"He asked me what you had done to me, and I told him everything. Then he forbade me to marry you."
"You needn't mind that."
"Oh yes, I must indeed. I can't disobey papa."
"Not for one who loves you as I do, and whom you pretend to love?"
Pansy raised the lid of the tea-pot, gazing into this vessel for a moment; then she dropped six words into its aromatic depths. "I love you just as much."
"What good will that do me?"
"Ah," said Pansy, raising her sweet, vague eyes, "I don't know that."
"You disappoint me," groaned poor Rosier.
Pansy was silent a moment; she handed a tea-cup to a servant.
"Please don't talk any more."
"Is this to be all my satisfaction?"
"Papa said I was not to talk with you."
"Do you sacrifice me like that? Ah, it's too much!"
"I wish you would wait a little," said the young girl, in a voice just distinct enough to betray a quaver.
"Of course I will wait if you will give me hope. But you take my life away."
"I will not give you up—oh, no!" Pansy went on.
"He will try and make you marry some one else."
"I will never do that."
