From time to time Leonard came to the door of the carriage and asked if he could do anything for her. She gently declined his offers of refreshment, and said she needed nothing. He did not press his attentions upon her, and she gave him credit for a kindness of heart to which he had no claim.
It was ten o'clock at night when they reached the town to which Leonard was conveying her. The carriage drew up at the door of at hotel of some pretension, and there Leonard had no difficulty in obtaining accommodation for Emilia. He told her he did not intend to pass the night at the hotel, and she was grateful to him.
"To-morrow I shall return," he said. "Shall I say good-by to you now or then?"
"Now," she replied.
"Very well. Good-by." He hesitated a moment, and then offered her his hand.
She hesitated, also, before she accepted it. From him she had received information of the blow which had dishonored her; could she touch his hand in friendship? No, not in friendship, but why should she be sullen and churlish? He had done her no direct wrong, he had even shown her consideration and kindness. To refuse his hand would be a bad commencement of the new life. She held out hers, and he took it in his cool palm.
"You are still resolved not to accept my offer?" he asked.
"I am resolved."
"I will not endeavor to prevail upon you, for I see your mind is made up."
"It is. You cannot turn me."