She turned away her head; the tears were breaking forth again.
“Not coming back! Why?” he cried, quickly.
Her tears were flowing fast now. She looked at him with one swift glance of misery and reproach, and whispered brokenly:
“You ought to know why. Betty—Betty saw you!”
Harry sprung up on the step.
“What—that day when I—when I behaved like—like a cad? And you are going away because of me?”
The hasty, passionate nature of the lad was moved to a mighty impulse of remorse. She could only answer, pitying him and holding out her hand while she tried to smile through her tears:
“Never mind—never mind! I have forgiven you long ago. I—I—I only told you because you asked.”
He had seized her offered hand, when the guard came up to shut the door.
“Going, sir?”