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"
Dearest
Louise
!
image
of
your
mother
!
I
had
doubted
you
.
Forgive
me
,
my
noble
girl
!
Let
the
past
be
forgotten
.
I
shall
leave
it
to
yourself
.
You
are
free
to
refuse
him
!
"
Louise
Poindexter
made
fall
use
of
the
liberty
allowed
by
her
father
.
In
less
than
an
hour
after
,
Calhoun
was
flatly
refused
.
It
was
his
third
time
of
asking
.
Twice
before
had
the
same
suit
been
preferred
;
informally
,
and
rather
by
a
figure
of
speech
than
in
the
shape
of
a
direct
declaration
.
It
was
the
third
time
;
and
the
answer
told
it
would
be
the
last
.
It
was
a
simple
"
No
,
"
emphatically
followed
by
the
equally
simple
"
Never
!
"
There
was
no
prevarication
about
the
speech
--
no
apology
for
having
made
it
.
Calhoun
listened
to
his
rejection
,
without
much
show
of
surprise
.
Possibly
--
in
all
probability
--
he
expected
it
.
But
instead
of
the
blank
look
of
despair
usually
observable
under
the
circumstances
,
his
features
remained
firm
,
and
his
cheeks
free
from
blanching
.
As
he
stood
confronting
his
fair
cousin
,
a
spectator
might
have
been
reminded
of
the
jaguar
,
as
it
pauses
before
springing
on
its
prey
.
There
was
that
in
his
eye
which
seemed
to
say
:
--
"
In
less
than
sixty
seconds
,
you
'll
change
your
tune
.
"
