"I think I could forgive you a far greater fault, Lillian," he answered, in a tone that said many things.
"But deceit is so mean, so dishonorable and contemptible, how can you so easily pardon it in me?" she asked, quite overcome by this forgiveness, granted without any reproach.
"Then you would find it hard to pardon such a thing in another?" he said, with the expression that always puzzled her.
"Yes, it would be hard; but in those I loved, I could forgive much for love's sake."
With a sudden gesture he took her hand saying, impulsively, "How little changed you are! Do you remember that last ride of ours nearly five years ago?"
"Yes, Paul," she answered, with averted eyes.
"And what we talked of?"
"A part of that childish gossip I remember well."
"Which part?"
"The pretty little romance you told me." And Lillian looked up now, longing to ask if Helen's childhood had been blighted like her youth.