"You have no right to call me anything—to speak to me at all! I do not know what evil fate has driven us together here; but if you have one feeling of honor, Captain Cavendish, you will leave me in peace—you will let me alone. My lot is not such a happy one that you should wish to destroy the little comfort I have left."
Her voice choked and something fell on her book and wet it. The face of the English officer looked strangely moved for him.
"Heaven knows, Winnie, I have no desire to disturb it; I have been a villain—we both know that—but destiny was against me. I am poor; I am in debt—I was then—what could I do?"
"Will you let me go?" was her answer, without turning her averted face to him.
"Am I, then, utterly hateful to you?" he asked, with some bitterness. "You have soon forgotten the past, but I deserve it! I do not ask what chain of circumstances brought you here; I only ask, being here, that you will not reveal the story of—of what is past and gone. Will you promise me this, Winnie?"
"What right have you to ask any promise of me?" she demanded, her gentle voice full of indignation.
"Very little, I know; but still, I want the promise, Winnie, for your own sake, as well as for me."
"I am not likely to tell; the story of one's own folly is not too pleasant to repeat. And now, in return, Captain Cavendish, I want, I demand, a promise from you! We met last night as strangers, as strangers let us meet henceforth. Go your own way. I shall not molest you, never fear; and be generous enough to grant me the same favor. My life is to be one of hard work. I do not regret that. Let me find happiness in my own way, and do not disturb me any more."
"And it has all come to this!" he said, moodily, looking out over the wide sea. "Well, Winnie, let it be as you wish, only I never thought you could be so unforgiving."
"I have forgiven long ago; I want to try and forget as well!"