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“Don’t hold me so close to you,” she panted at last, when she could find her voice; “don’t make it any harder. You guess, don’t you, how much I love you? Oh, why did God give me such passions, why did He give me the love I feel in my heart, and then crush me with such a fearful doom? Oh! I shall go mad, I shall go mad.”

“No, Nancy, you will do nothing of the kind,” said Rowton. He spoke, on purpose, in a calm, matter-of-fact voice. “You are over excited now and very much upset. Put on your hat, darling, and let us go outside. It is not so gloomy out as in; this tumble-down old Grange is enough to give the blues to anyone. You don’t live another week in such a hole. Wait, my angel, until you know what life really is, and life with me. I’ll show you what it is to live. Why, you won’t know yourself—no more dull days, no more cold and starvation. You shall have the softest of homes, the most luxurious of lives, the most tempting delicacies to eat, the most beautiful dresses to wear. You shall listen to music, you shall sing yourself, you shall see laughing faces around you, amusements of every sort shall but await your orders, and above and beyond all these things, sweetheart, there will be love. The mighty love of my heart will surround you.”