She refused at first to tell him her sorrow.

Then she whispered a pitiful little story, that made her lover resolve upon some rash deeds.
Ralph Holt had been speaking to her father, and had asked her to marry him.

She had said "No;" but her mother had wept, and her father had grown angry, and had said she should obey him.
"He has a large farm," said Dora, with a bitter sigh.

"He says I should live like a great lady, and have nothing to do.

He would be kind to my father and mother; but I do not love him," she added.
Clasping her tender little hands round Ronald's arm, "I do not love him," she sobbed; "and, Ronald, I do love you." He bent down and kissed her pretty, tear-bedewed face, all the chivalry of his nature aroused by her words.
"You shall be my wife, Dora," he said, proudly, "and not his.