“Mr. Huyton,” said she, advancing a step, “we are both changed since we stood here once before; and after all that has passed, there is, perhaps, no spot on earth so appropriate as this for us to part. Here, by the grave of one who loved you, and whom I know you must have esteemed and valued in return, let us bury all that may have caused pain to either, and exchange a farewell and forgiveness together.”
“I do not agree with you,” replied he, coldly, and making no offer to receive her hand; “it does not appear to me that any two people on this earth can have less reason to wish to speak, or that a spot so unfortunate for a meeting could be found.”
She was silenced for a time; he stood gloomily looking at her; at length she said, very gently:
“We leave this place to-morrow morning, and I am come now to pay a last, a final visit, to this solemn spot. Need I say more, or need I ask you, as a gentleman, not to intrude on a seclusion so sacred; not to persecute me here with unkind and unholy emotions!”
“Have I wronged you, Mrs. Hepburn, that you talk of forgiveness?” said he, sternly.
“If your conscience can acquit you, Mr. Huyton, it is not necessary for me to recall unpleasant recollections. Do not let us discuss the subject.”
“Forgiveness implies a sense of injury,” persisted he; “I have a right to know how I have incurred the charge.”
“When we last parted,” said she, after a pause, looking at him with gentle eyes, “you asked earnestly and urgently to be considered as my friend. What have I done since, to cause this change in you; that now, when we are parting, perhaps for ever, you will not say one kindly word; will not bid me good speed, nor let me give you my good wishes?”
“If my memory serves me rightly, you refused those urgent entreaties, you declined decidedly, the friendship which I offered. Am I to conclude that your refusal was insincere, and that you wished to keep me at your feet, even while you affected to repulse me?”
“You are cruelly unjust, Mr. Huyton,” was her answer; “I told you that intercourse between us must cease, until—I am sure you must remember the condition—nor have I even now, when that condition is about to be fulfilled, the slightest wish to carry on the acquaintance; I only asked for an exchange of parting words; and my only wish now is, that you should leave me in peace. At least do not profane this spot with bitter words. I pray Heaven to bless you, and lead you to true happiness here and hereafter.”