It was Mark Foster who spoke . He had n't said a word ; but he came forward now , and stood before Owen . Such a difference as there was between them ! But he looked Owen right in the face , quiet-like , and Owen glared back in fury . `` Will it satisfy you , Owen , if Phillippa comes down here and chooses between us ? '' `` Yes , it will , '' said Owen . Mark Foster turned to me . `` Go and bring her down , '' said he . Isabella , judging Phillippa by herself , gave a little moan of despair , and Owen , blinded by love and hope , thought his cause was won . But I knew my dearie too well to be glad , and Mark Foster did , too , and I hated him for it . I went up to my dearie 's room , all pale and shaking . When I went in she came to meet me , like a girl going to meet death . `` Is -- it -- time ? '' she said , with her hands locked tight together . I said not a word , hoping that the unlooked-for sight of Owen would break down her resolution . I just held out my hand to her , and led her downstairs . She clung to me and her hands were as cold as snow . When I opened the parlor door I stood back , and pushed her in before me . She just cried , `` Owen ! '' and shook so that I put my arms about her to steady her .
XXXXX made a step towards her , his face and eyes all aflame with his love and longing , but Mark barred his way .
Foster Isabella Owen Phillippa despair downstairs face resolution right room