that's enough," she said, raising a hand as if to stop
him--"I understand you as well as if you were to talk a month. You
prefer me to other girls, and you wish me to become your wife."

"You put it in better words than I can do, Judith, and I wish you to
fancy them said just as you most like to hear 'em."

"They're plain enough, Harry, and 'tis fitting they should be so. This
is no place to trifle or deceive in. Now, listen to my answer, which
shall be, in every tittle, as sincere as your offer. There is a reason,
March, why I should never--

"I suppose I understand you, Judith, but if I'm willing to overlook that
reason, it's no one's consarn but mine--Now, don't brighten up like the
sky at sundown, for no offence is meant, and none should be taken."

"I do not brighten up, and will not take offence," said Judith,
struggling to repress her indignation, in a way she had never found it
necessary to exert before. "There is a reason why I should not, cannot,
ever be your wife, Hurry, that you seem to overlook, and which it is
my duty now to tell you, as plainly as you have asked me to consent to
become so. I do not, and I am certain that I never shall, love you well
enough to marry you. No man can wish for a wife who does not prefer
him to all other men, and when I tell you this frankly, I suppose you
yourself will thank me for my sincerity."

"Ah! Judith, them flaunting, gay, scarlet-coated officers of the
garrisons have done all this mischief!"

"Hush, March; do not calumniate a daughter over her mother's grave! Do
not, when I only wish to treat you fairly, give me reason to call for
evil on your head in bitterness of heart! Do not forget that I am a
woman, and that you are a man; and that I have neither father, nor
brother, to revenge your words!"

"Well, there is something in the last, and I'll say no more. Take time,
Judith, and think better on this."

"I want no time--my mind has long been made up, and I have only waited
for you to speak plainly, to answer plainly. We now understand each
other, and there is no use in saying any more."

The impetuous earnestness of the girl awed the young man, for never
before had he seen her so serious and determined. In most, of their
previous interviews she had met his advances with evasion or sarcasm,
but these Hurry had mistaken for female coquetry, and had supposed might
easily be converted into consent. The struggle had been with himself,
about offering, nor had he e