'
'Well, little Lily, will you have him?' he said, after a little pause.
'No, my darling, no!' she answered, still crying.
'You _won't_ have him?'
'No--no--never!'
'Well, little Lily, I won't answer his letter to-day; there's no hurry,
you know. And, if you are of the same mind to-morrow, you can just say
you wish me to write.'
'Change, I can't; my answer will always be the same--always the same.'
And she kissed him again, and went toward the door; but she turned back,
drying her eyes, with a smile, and said--
'No, your little Lily will stay with her darling old man, and be a
pleasant old maid, like Aunt Becky: and I'll play and sing your
favourite airs, and Sally and I will keep the house; and we'll be
happier in the Elms, I'm determined, than ever we were--and won't you
call me, darling, when you're going out?'
So little Lily ran away, and up stairs; and as she left the study and
its beloved tenant, at every step the air seemed to darken round her,
and her heart to sink. And she turned the key in her door, and threw
herself on the bed; and, with her face to the pillow, cried as if her
heart would break.
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