"Never mind me, Mr. David," she said, giving way reluctantly.
"Always at some hard work or other," he said; "you won't quit till you
get laid up sick."
He filled the water-pail from the bucket for her, which she took up and
was about to go when he found courage to say: "Won't you stay a minute, Anna, I want to talk to you.
"Anna, have you any relatives?"
"Not now."
"But have you no friends who knew you and loved you before you came to
us?"
"I want nothing of my friends, Mr. David, but their good will."
"Anna, why will you persist in cutting yourself off from the rest of
the world like this? You are too good, too womanly a girl, to lead
this colorless kind of an existence forever."
She looked at him pleadingly out of her beautiful eyes. "Mr. David,
you would not be intentionally cruel to me, I know, so don't speak to
me of these things. It only distresses me--and can do you no good."
"Forgive me, Anna, I would not hurt you for the world--but you must
know that I love you. Don't you think you could ever grow to care for
me?"
"Mr. David, I shall never marry any one. Do not ask me to explain, and
I beg of you, if you have a feeling of even ordinary kindness for me.
that you will never mention this subject to me again. You remember how
I promised your father that if he would let me make my home with you,
he should never live to regret it? Do you think that I intend to repay
the dearest wish of his heart in this way? Why, Mr. David, you are
engaged to marry Kate." She took up the water-pail to go.