At this she caught her breath, the rosy flush ebbed and left her pale.
"Must I go, sir?" she asked humbly, but with eyes very bright.
"When you are ready I will attend you as far as your own house."
"If I go, John," said she a little breathlessly, "if I go you will come to me to-morrow and plead forgiveness on your knees, and I am minded to let you."
"I think not, my lady—there is a limit I find even to such love as mine."
"Then is my love the greater, John, for now, rather than let you humble yourself to beg forgiveness for your evil thought of me, I will stoop to explain away your base suspicions. To-night you went to the stile before the time appointed and saw that hateful Dalroyd eloping with my brother Charles in my clothes as you saw him once before—upon the wall."
"Your brother!" cried the Major. "Dear God in heaven!"
"Is it so wonderful?" she sighed. "Had you been a woman you would have guessed ere now, I think. But a woman is so much quicker than a blind, blundering man. And you are very blind, John—and a prodigious blunderer."
The Major stood silent and with bowed head.
"So this was my scheme to save my dear Charles and avenge myself upon Mr. Dalroyd—and see how near you brought it to ruin, John, and your own life in jeopardy with your fighting. But men are so clumsy, alas! And you are vastly clumsy—aren't you, John?"