"To begin again, if you do not object. I have already thought of some changes in the attitude."
She looked at him keenly, and not without wonder.
"You soon get over it," she said.
"Why not?" he asked quietly; "do not look astonished, Miriam; I can no more linger over regret than over anger. For me to feel that a thing is utterly lost, is to cease to lament for it. The work of days and months is utterly ruined; be it so, I have but to begin anew."
Miriam rose and went up to him as he stood before his easel, somewhat pale, but as collected as if nothing had happened.
"Forgive her," she whispered, "for my sake," and she took his hand in her own.
"I have forgiven her, Miriam," he replied, giving her a candid and surprised glance: "did you not hear me say so?"
"From your heart?"
"From my heart," he answered frankly.
"But with an implied condition of confession, acknowledgment, or something of the sort?"