"Oh, Mr. Van Berg," said Ida, in a low, hurt tone, "I don't think that was fair to me, or right."
"I am confessing and not excusing myself, Miss Mayhew. I once very justly appeared to you like a prig, and now I fear I shall seem a spy; but after our visit to that old garden together, and your frankness to me, I feel under bonds to tell the whole truth. You said we were fated to misunderstand each other. I think not, for if you ever permit me to be your friend I shall be the frankest one you ever had;" at these words he felt her hand trembling on his arm, and she would not look up nor make any reply.
"Well," said he, desperately, "I expect Sibley's fate will soon be mine. I suppose it was a mean thing to watch you, but it would seem a meaner thing to me not to tell you. I was about to speak to you, Miss Mayhew, when by another odd coincidence the orchestra commenced playing music that I knew would remind you of me. I was gaining the impression before you left the country that as you came to think the past all over, you had found that there was more against me than you could forgive, or else that I was so inseparably associated with that which was painful that you would be glad to forget the one with the other. I must admit that this impression was greatly strengthened by the expression of your face, and I almost decided to leave the place without speaking to you. But I found I could not, and—well, you know I did not. You see I'm at your mercy again."
Ida was greatly relieved, for she now learned that he had discovered nothing in his favor, and that she was still mistress of the situation.
"I do not think you are very penitent; I fear you would do the same thing over again," she said.
"Indeed, Miss Mayhew, when I first met you here I thought I would always do the right and proper thing, and I fear I thought some things right because I did them. I've lived a hundred years since that time, and am beginning to find myself out. Didn't you think me the veriest prig that ever smiled in a superior way at the world?"
"I don't think I shall give you my opinion," she replied, averting her face to hide a blush and a laugh.
"No need. I saw your opinion in your face when you looked down at your programme half an hour since."
"You are mistaken; I was thinking of myself at that moment, for I could not help remembering what a fool I must have appeared to you on that occasion."
He looked at her in surprise. "Miss Burton was right," he ejaculated,
"I never shall understand you."