“I am not concerned for what he may think or do, mademoiselle. It is you, and you only, whom I fear to have estranged. I deceived you. Can you forgive me?”
“You should not have done it, monsieur,” she answered, dropping her eyes. “You—you shamed me.”
“God forbid you should believe such a thought as that could have been in my heart.”
“But I—I deemed you were my cousin. Oh, when I think of it, my face flames with humiliation.”
“Then in all truth am I bitterly punished. But you must see how hardly I was placed. When I heard the blunt confession of all that was designed against you I knew not what to do. Hating myself for every act and word of compelled deception, yet I could not speak without——But of course, you must blame me.”
“You could have told me, monsieur, if you had trusted me;” and the reproach in her eyes as she glanced up stung him so that he winced.
“And you read in me no more than mistrust?” he whispered.
“Monsieur!”
“And you think I have been untrue to you?”
“Monsieur!” This time with a little accent of pain, adding under her breath, “I trusted you so completely.”