“I did forgive you, long ago, Randolph. I was very, very angry when I read it, and I daresay you too were angry when you wrote such cruel things to me, but then”—and she smiled—“you have such a very hasty temper.”
He placed his hand on hers. “Only you can chasten it, Kate. And now you know why I have come to Black Bluff.”
“It is very good of you, Randolph, but, as I have said, I forgave you long ago, and I am sorry that you have come so far just to tell me that you are sorry for what occurred, although both father and I are sincerely glad to see you.”
“Ah, Kate! You don't understand what I mean. In asking for your forgiveness I ask for your love. I came here to ask you to be my wife.”
“Don't, please, Randolph,” and she drew herself away from him. “I cannot marry you. I like you—I always liked you—but please do not say anything more.”
“Kate,” and the man's voice shook, “you cared for me once. Forget my mad, angry letter, and——”
“I have forgotten it. Did I not say so? But please do not again ask me to marry you. Come, let us go back to the house. You will only make me miserable—or else angry.”
“Why have you changed so towards me?” he asked quickly.
“I have not changed in any way towards you,” she answered emphatically with a slight accent of anger in her tones. “Please do not say anything more. Let us go in,” and she rose.
“Kate,” he said pleadingly, and he placed his hand on her arm gently, “just listen to me for a minute. I love you. I will do all that a man can to make you happy. I have left the Native Police, and I am now fairly well off——”