"I tell you what it is, Marie," said Milton, "I think I will alter my plans and remain in New York, until we get this thing settled."
"And I tell you," said the girl, firmly, "you shall do nothing of the kind. Such a course on your part would make me think you had no faith in me."
"But it looks cowardly," said he, "for me to go abroad and leave you to fight this thing out alone."
"I am not a bit afraid. Besides, I am more than anxious that you should go to Rome and finish your studies. Nothing must be allowed to hinder that great and glorious future which must, which shall, be yours."
"Now you are my brave darling." He embraced her fondly, just as Mr. Salmon appeared upon the scene, an angry scowl disfiguring his usually calm and placid brow.
"I had hoped, sir, that your sense of honor would have prevented you from encouraging this young girl in a disobedience of her father."
"Father, dear, I pray you refrain from speech of that kind to Milton. I love you, sir, with deep affection; but I also love Milton, and I tell you now, as I have told you before, that if I live, and he still wants me, I shall marry him."
"Marry, girl!" said the aroused father. "I tell you that you will never have my consent to marry him."
"Then," said the girl, "I shall marry him without it."
"I regret, sir," said Milton, with utmost deference and respect, "that trouble with my father, almost before I was born, should tinge and shape your opinion of me. It is most unjust."
"Frankly speaking," said the lawyer, "I do not like you. I do not want an artist in my family."