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“Yes, that’s right; it is folly to talk of parting lovers such as we are. Now, my little Nancy, you must cheer up. I’ll soon teach you a sweet new song. You won’t know yourself when I take you from all these dismal surroundings.”

“What was I dreaming of?” said Nancy. “Your love is so sweet to me that for a moment I yielded. I cannot marry you, Adrian. It is impossible.”

“You must give me a better reason than you have yet given, before I agree to any such nonsense.”

“Adrian, do you think I would say a thing of this sort without very grave reason? It is not only the death of my father. Fathers and mothers die in the course of nature, but children still live on. No, it is not that. The burden laid upon me is of such a character that I must part from you. I must, Adrian, I must; the thought drives me mad. I wish I had never been born.”

All Nancy’s apparent composure gave way at this juncture. Dry, tearless sobs shook her from head to foot; she tottered as if a storm had really blown over her, and but for Rowton’s protecting arms would have fallen.