All the mischief in her eyes was drowned in fresh tears. She thought that he was offended, and the estrangement of a moment seems eternal to first love.
"Honorable men do not permit themselves to speak of love at all where they have reason to think it unwelcome," was his grave reply.
"Unwelcome? Oh, Mr. Closs!"
Clara held out both her hands and came nearer to Hepworth, like a child that wants to be forgiven. He drew her close to his side, but spoke a little sadly.
"You see how much I must love you, Clara, to forget all that a guest in your father's house should remember."
"I—I don't know; I can't understand what it is that you have done wrong. I'm sure I'm ready to forgive you."
She might have said more, but he took the breath from her lips, and held her so close to his heart that she could feel its tumultuous beatings.
"But I can never forgive myself, darling."
"Oh, yes you will!"
The creature pursed up her lips and offered them for his kiss—thus, as she thought, tempting him into self-forgiveness.