t!"

Mark, disdaining to turn his eyes for the fraction of a moment from her
face, said reproachfully:

"Are you going to answer me, Julia?"

"How do you mean?" Julia said nervously.

"You know what I mean," Mark answered, with an impatient nod.

"No, I don't," Julia said, with a little laugh.

"Now, you look-a-here, Julia--you look-a-here," Mark began, almost
angrily. "I am going to ask you to marry me! You've fooled about it, and
you've laughed about it, and I've got a right to _know_! I think about it
all the time; I lie awake at night and think about it. I"--his voice
softened suddenly--"I love you awfully, Julia," he said. And then, with
a sort of concentrated passion that rather frightened the girl, he
added, "So I'm going to ask you once more. I want you to answer me, d'ye
see?"

The car sped on, clanged across Market Street, turned into the Mission.
Julia had grown a little pale. She gave Mark a fleeting glance, looked
away, and finally brought her eyes back to him again.

"I wish you wouldn't take things so _seriously_, Mark," she began
uneasily. "You're always forcing me to say things--and I don't want
to--I don't want to get married _at all_--"

"Nonsense!" said Mark harshly.

"It's not nonsense!" Julia protested, glad to feel her anger rising.
Mark saw her heightened colour, and misread it.

"Yes," he said sneeringly. "That's all very well, but I'll bet you'd
feel pretty badly if I never came near you again--if I let the whole
thing drop!"

"Oh, Mark," said Julia fervently, "if you only _would_--I don't mean
that!" she interrupted herself, compunction seizing her at the look of
mortal hurt on his face. "But I mean--if you only didn't love me! You
see, I'm perfectly happy, Mark, I've got what I want. And if Miss Toland
takes me abroad with her next year, why, it'll mean more to me than _any_
marriage could, don't you see that? You know what my childhood was,
Mark; my mother didn't love my father--" And as a sudden memory of the
old life rose to confront her, Julia's tone became firm; she felt a
certain sureness. "Married people ought to love each other, Mark," she
said positively. "I _know_ that. And I won't--I _never_ will marry a man I
don't love. If everything goes wrong, after that, you have only yourself
to blame. And so many times it goes wrong, Mark! I should be unhappy, I
should keep wondering if I wouldn't be happier going my own way--wondering
if I wouldn't have--have gotten farther--