In a few minutes I heard a step in the hall.  I knew it, and it was strange how soon I had learned to know it.  She stopped in front of the office, then she went on towards the porch, and turning she came into the parlor, first looking towards the front of the room and then towards the place where I stood.

The light from a window near me fell directly upon her as she approached me, and I could see that there was a slight flush on her face, but before she reached me it had disappeared.  She did not greet me.  She did not offer me her hand.  In fact, from what afterwards happened, I believe that she did not consider me at that moment a fit subject for ordinary greeting.  She stood up in front of me.  She gazed steadfastly into my face.  Her features wore something of their ordinary pleasant expression, but to this there was added a certain determination which I had never seen there before.  She gave her head a little quick shake.

“No, sir!” she said.

This reception amazed me.  I had been greatly agitated as I heard her approach, turning over in my mind what I should first say to her, but now I forgot everything I had prepared.  “No what?” I exclaimed.

[Illustration:  “‘No, sir,’ she said”]

“‘No’ means that I will not marry you.”

I stood speechless.  “Of course you are thinking,” she continued, “that you have never asked me to marry you.  But that isn’t at all necessary.  As soon as I saw you standing there, back two weeks before your vacation is over, and when I got a good look at your face, I knew exactly what you had come for.  I was afraid when you left here that you would come back for that, so I was not altogether unprepared.  I spoke promptly so as to spare you and to make it easier for me.”

“Easier!” I repeated.  “What do you mean?”

“Easier, because the sooner you know that I will not marry you the better it will be for you and for me.”

Now I could restrain myself no longer.  “Why can’t I marry you?” I asked, speaking very rapidly, and, I am afraid, with imprudent energy.  “Is it any sort of condition or circumstance which prevents?  Do you think that I am forcing myself upon you at a time when I ought not to do it?  If so, you have mistaken me.  Ever since I left here I have thought of scarcely anything but you, and I have returned thus early simply to tell you that I love you!  I had to do that!  I could not wait!  But as to all else, I can wait, and wait, and wait, as long as you please.  You can tell me to go away and come back at whatever time you think it will be right for you to give me an answer.”

“This is the right time,” she said, “and I have given you your answer.  But, unfortunately, I did not prevent you from saying what you came to say.  So now I will tell you that the conditions and circumstances to which you allude have nothing to do with the matter.  I have a reason for my decision which is of so much more importance than any other reason that it is the only one which need be considered.”