“But why?”
“It all looked so ugly, and you were silent. We are unfortunate. My brother would never let us marry; and, besides—Oh, why did you not come before?”
“I might as well say, Why did you not look out of your window? You could have done it without risking your life, as I did. Or why did you not advertise. You might have invited an explanation from 'E. S.,' under cover to so-and-so.”
“Ladies never think of such things. You know that very well.”
“Oh, I don't complain; but I do say that those who love should not be ready to reproach; they should put a generous construction. You might have known, and you ought to have known, that I was struggling to find you, and torn with anguish at my impotence.”
“No, no. I am so young and inexperienced, and all my friends against you. It is they who have parted us.”
“How can they part us, if you love me still as I love you?”
“Because for the last fortnight I have not loved you, but hated you, and doubted you, and thought my only chance of happiness was to imitate your indifference: and while I was thinking so, another person has come forward; one whom I have always esteemed: and now, in my pity and despair, I have given him hopes.” She hid her burning face in her hands.
“I see; you are false to me, and therefore you have suspected me of being false to you.”
At that she raised her head high directly. “Edward, you are unjust. Look in my face, and you may see what I have suffered before I could bring myself to condemn you.”