"Do not leave me to despair!" pleaded Maxwell, earnestly, as he followed
her toward the door. "At least, bid me wait, bid me prove myself
worthy,--anything, but do not forever extinguish the little star I have
permitted to blaze in the firmament of my heart--the star I have dared
to worship. Do not veil me in utter darkness!"

"I can offer no hope--not the slightest, even to rid myself of an
annoyance," replied Miss Dumont, with the return of some portion of her
former dignity; for the perseverance of the attorney perplexed and
troubled her exceedingly.

"You know not to what a fate you doom me," said Maxwell, heedless of the
lady's rebuke.

"There is no remedy;" and Miss Dumont grasped the door-knob.

"There is a remedy. Bid me wait a month, a year, any time, till you
examine more closely your own heart. Give me any respite from hopeless
misery."

"You have my answer; and now I trust to your honor as a gentleman to
save me from further annoyance," said Miss Dumont, with spirit, for her
patience was fast ebbing out.

"I will not _annoy_ you," replied Maxwell, with emphasis, as he assumed
an air of more self-possession. "I have been pleading for exemption from
the direst of human miseries. But I will not _annoy_ you, even to save
myself from endless woe."