"I think I ought to be walking home," said she.
"Not yet; I have not half enjoyed the view," said he, decidedly.
"Oh, please do not disturb yourself," she faltered, breathlessly, as she made a movement to rise, "I can go home alone—I would rather——"
"So you told me the last time we parted, and, like a fool and a coward, I let you go. I am wiser now. You must stay."
She had lifted up her gloves to put them on. Taking her hands in his, he gently pulled away the gloves, and obliged her to resume her seat. She began to tremble.
"Mr. Cranmer—you must let me go. I—am not strong yet—I cannot bear it. Oh, please go and leave me. I cannot talk to you."
The words were wrung from her. Feebly she strove to draw her hands out of his warm clasp, but he held them firmly.
"The reason I followed you here was because they told me you would refuse to see me if you could," he said calmly. He had regained his composure now, and his quiet manner soothed her. "I was quite determined to see you. I came down to Edge for that reason alone. It is merely a question of time. If you will not listen to me to-day, you must to-morrow. I have something which I will say to you. Choose when you will hear it."
"Is it—is it about Osmond?" she said, feverishly.
"About Osmond? No, it has nothing to do with him," said Claud, rather resentfully. "It is only about me."