"Of course!" echoed the miserable girl, wondering if he meant what he said.
"Allan," said his mother, entering the room at that moment, "what are you saying to distress my patient? I don't like the look of these feverish cheeks."
"I fear I have committed the unpardonable sin, as Miss Rose refuses to pardon it."
Mrs. Dunlop, who was in absolute ignorance of the subject of conversation, looked smilingly from one to the other.
"Promise her that the offence will never be repeated, Allan," she said, "and then it may receive forgiveness."
The young man coloured scarlet. "The conditions are too hard," he murmured. "I think, on the whole, I should prefer to go unforgiven." And he hastily rose and left the room.
But if Rose Macleod was not free from afflictions of a sentimental nature, her brother Edward was even less so. This young man sorely missed the girlish society which his sister in happier days had constantly drawn about her. One afternoon, when time hung particularly heavy on his hands, he decided to go over to "Bellevue," ostensibly to give Madame DeBerczy the latest information concerning Rose, but really to solace his soul with a sight of the beautiful Helene. On his way over he chanced to overtake the Algonquin girl, Wanda, whom he proceeded to upbraid in no measured terms for the way in which she had treated him.
"Ah, don't!" she cried at last, covering her ears with her hands, "your words are like hailstones, sharp and cruel and cold."
"Then will you not say that you are sorry?" he pleaded, bending his fair head once more perilously near to the soft, brown neck.
"Sorry that you deserved the blow? yes; certainly!"