And you coolly tell me you do not care for me! Can't you try to?
I'll make you so happy, if you will only make me happy, Lois." "Please--please," she protested, "do not say anything more; it never can be,--indeed, it cannot!" Dick's voice had been tender a moment before, but it was hard now.
"Well," he said, "you have amused yourself all summer, I suppose.

You made me think you loved me, and everybody else thought so, too." The hint of blame kept Lois from feeling the sting of conscience.

She flung her head back, and looked at him with a flash of indignation in her eyes.

"Do you think it's manly to blame me?
You had better blame yourself that you couldn't win my love!" "Do you expect a man to choose his words when you give him his death-blow ?" he said; and then, "Oh, Miss Lois, if I wait, can't you learn to care for me?
I'll wait,--a year, if you say there's any hope.
Or do you love anybody else?
Is that the reason ?" "That has nothing to do with it," Lois cried, hotly, "but I don't." "Then," said Dick eagerly, "you must love me, only you don't recognize it, not having been in love before.

Of course it's different with a girl who doesn't know what love is.