"Then, for Heaven's sake, speak the truth! Here have I been chasing Brian half over the world, getting myself shipwrecked and thrown on desert islands, and what not, all because I wanted you, Elizabeth, to acknowledge that I was not such a mean and selfish wretch as you concluded me to be. Have I cleared myself? or, perhaps I should say, have I expiated the crime that I did commit?"
"It was no crime," said Brian, warmly. "No one who knows you could think you capable of meanness."
"I was not speaking to you, Mr. Luttrell," said Percival. "You're not in it at all. I am having a little conversation with my cousin. Well, Elizabeth, what do you say?"
"I think you have been most kind and generous," she said.
"Then I may retire with a good character? And, to come back to what I said before, as we both wish——"
"You are not generous now, Heron," said Brian, quickly.
"No! But I will be—sometime. You seem very anxious to repudiate all desire to marry my cousin. Have you changed your mind?"
"Percival, I will not listen. Have you brought me here only to insult me?" cried Elizabeth, passionately.
Percival smiled. "I am waiting for Brian Luttrell's answer," he replied, looking at him steadily.
"I do not know what answer you expect," said Brian, "unless you want me to say the truth—that I loved Elizabeth Murray with all my heart and soul, before I knew that she had promised to be your wife; and that as I loved her then, I love her still. It is my misfortune—or my privilege—to do so; I scarcely know which. And for that reason, as you know, I have earnestly wished never to cross her path again, lest I should trouble her or distress her in any way."