“No, I do not yet refuse,” said Dorothea, in a clear voice, the need of freedom asserting itself within her; “but it is too solemn⁠—I think it is not right⁠—to make a promise when I am ignorant what it will bind me to. Whatever affection prompted I would do without promising.”

“But you would use your own judgment: I ask you to obey mine; you refuse.”

“No, dear, no!” said Dorothea, beseechingly, crushed by opposing fears. “But may I wait and reflect a little while? I desire with my whole soul to do what will comfort you; but I cannot give any pledge suddenly⁠—still less a pledge to do I know not what.”

“You cannot then confide in the nature of my wishes?”

“Grant me till tomorrow,” said Dorothea, beseechingly.

“Till tomorrow then,” said Mr. Casaubon.