"You have made me love you—you have wound yourself round my heart. Forgive me, Meg," said the old man.
"Do not ask me to forgive you, sir. I have received nothing but good from you," said Meg.
"Say it, Meg," the old man urged. "Say, 'Grandfather, I forgive it and forget it.'"
"As you wish I will say it, sir. I forgive—" began Meg.
"Say, 'Grandfather,'" he interrupted.
"Grandfather, I forgive it and forget it," repeated Meg, stretching out her hands.
He took them then, looking down into her eyes. "Can you, forgetting the part I played of neglect, forget also the part of kindness played in it by that man? For my sake can you forget it?"
The words struck the chords of Meg's heart and filled it with the memory of the love that had come to her in her forlornness, and that now filled her life with all youth's appeals.
"No, sir, I can never forget that—never!" she said, loosening her hands from his grasp and stepping away.