'Pardon is no word between you and me,' he said wearily. 'How could you doubt me? Had I ever lied to you, or to anyone?'
'No: I was wrong.'
Her proud mouth trembled.
'How much or how little shall I tell him?' she thought; 'men are such children!'
He looked at her with hesitation; and a great and sudden joy touched his life.
'Do you love me at all, then?' he said with wonder and with doubt.
She smiled a little: her old slight mysterious smile!
'I suppose so—since I doubted you. Love is always blind!'
Spottiswoode & Co., Printers, New-street Square, London.