"I am very sorry, Claude, for all this; but bear it like a man. Believe me, no one shall ever know the occasion of this rupture—the management of which I leave entirely in your hands. Of what I overheard I shall never speak, I promise you, even though sorely pressed for my reasons for our separation. My own pride would prevent such a revelation, you know, putting principle aside." And again I extended my hand to him frankly, with the words, "Let us be friends."
He had glanced up a moment while I was speaking, evidently relieved by my voluntary promise. He took my hand humbly now, and reverently kissed it, bowing his head above it long and mutely.
"My poor, outraged, offended, noble Miriam!" I heard him murmur at last. The words affected me.
"I am all these, Claude," I said, withdrawing my hand gently but firmly, "but none the less your friend, if you will have it so. And now let us think what will be best for you to do. I wish to spare your feelings as much as possible, and I will say all I can with truth to exonerate you in your father's eyes. Go to Copenhagen, as you proposed at one time to do, and leave the rest to me. That will be best, I think."
"To Copenhagen!" he exclaimed. "You issue thus coldly your edict of banishment! Are you implacable then, Miriam?" and the cold dew stood in beads on his now pallid brow as he rose before me. He had not fully realized his situation until now.
"'Implacable' is scarcely the word for this occasion, Claude. It implies anger or hatred, it seems to me. Now, I feel neither of these—only the truest sympathy."
"Your anger, your hatred, were far more welcome, Miriam—more natural under the circumstances. This cool philosophy in one so young is monstrous! Mock me no longer with your calm compassion—it maddens me—it sinks me below contempt!"
He spoke gloomily, angrily, pushing away the clustering hair from his brow in the way peculiar to him when excited, as he proceeded, stamping slightly with his foot on the marble hearthstone in his impotent way. I could but smile!
"I will not offend you further, Claude," I said, mildly. "Receive your ring;" and I gave him back the diamond cross on a black enamel ground set on its circle of gold that he had placed upon my finger as a pledge of our betrothal; an ominous one, surely—for another cross was now to be borne.
"Understand me distinctly, Claude, all is finally at an end between us from this forever more! And now, farewell!"