"Yes, thank you. It was very stupid of me to give way so."
"You must not say that. You could not help it. And you are the last person, I am sure, to give pain to your friends."
She raised her eyes to his.
"It pained me exceedingly to see you overcome, and I could not help reproaching myself for being the innocent cause of your suffering."
"You were not to know that I was so weak; you did not know what kind of a play it was we were going to see."
"Thank you, Miss Lily," he said eagerly, "thank you. You do me greater justice than your friend Lizzie did. I think she must be ungrateful."
"No, indeed," said Lily warmly. "She is the very reverse of that. You must not speak ill of Lizzie, Mr. Sheldrake."
"Your wish is law," he replied gallantly; "but if she is not ungrateful, I am the most unfortunate of men, for I have by some unaccountable means incurred the displeasure of two persons whom you love--your grandfather and Lizzie."
He paused here, anticipating, and wishing, that Lily would have replied to this, but she was silent.
"And the mystery is, that both have good reason to behave differently towards me, to think better of me, for they must know that I have stood a good friend to Alfred. You know that."