“And give up all hope—­the hope that has sustained and given me life so long?  Oh, think, Ellen, think of my misery, of the untold wretchedness into which you plunge me, and let your heart, your kind, generous heart, relent!”

“Mr. Durant, I have told you often and often that it was impossible for me to love you, and that it was kindness to tell you so.  If you have disregarded my oft repeated declaration, the truth of which you must long ere this have been convinced, the fault is yours, not mine.”

“I know you have so spoken often, but still I have dared to hope.  I loved too fervently for the passion ever to die before you denied me hope.  Think of all these things, and then recall your words.”

“You have repeated them so frequently, that I could not well avoid thinking of them whether I chose to or not.  Let me now say, once for all, that importunities are utterly useless, and can prove of no avail.”

“Then I am to understand you as casting me off from your presence; and this being the end of your kindness, may I ask what was the object of that kindness?”

“I always endeavor to do unto others as I would have them do to me.  If you think such a course wrong, I cannot help it.”

“Then you would wish some person, who had the power, to show you all manner of good will, until your affections were won, and so firmly fixed as to be unalterable, and then cast you off?”

“No, I should be far from desiring such conduct on the part of any one.”

“And yet that is your way of ‘doing as you would be done by!’”

“I am not aware of ever having done so; if I have been the unwitting instrument of such acts, I am truly sorry for it.”

“Then let your sorrow work repentance.”

“Tell me how, and I will try to do so.”

“You cannot be ignorant of my meaning.”

“I am totally at a loss to know how your remarks can apply to me, in any way.”

“Then I will speak plainly.  Your actions for the last few months have been such as to bid me hope for a return of my love, and allured by that hope, founded on those actions, I have placed my affections so strongly, that I fear it will be death to tear them away.  As you have caused me to love, is it demanding more than justice that I should ask you to at least try to love me in return?”

“Mr. Durant, you know that your accusations are untrue.  Did you not just tell me that you loved before you ever spoke to me on the subject? and have you not repeatedly, aye, a hundred times, told me I was cold toward you, ever evincing a want of cordiality?  How, then, can you have the face to ask a return of love on this score?  Since you have been at such pains to make out so contradictory a case, I will say that you but lessen yourself in my esteem by the attempt!”

“I see, alas, you are a heartless coquette!”