“Of course I will forgive you,” responded the other affectionately, taking one of her hands in his. “There can be very little difficulty in my doing that.”
“But there is something else,” said Lilya, trembling like a condemned criminal.
“What else can there be?” inquired Oriel.
“Something else for you to forgive,” replied the timid girl.
“Indeed, I was not aware of its existence,” responded the young merchant. “Tell me what it is. It will give me pleasure to forgive you.”
“I have never told you how grateful I am for your kindness to me,” murmured his fair companion in a voice scarcely audible. “But indeed I feel it. I cannot help seeing how good you are, and—and—and I like you very much for it.”
“You are an admirable creature,” exclaimed Oriel Porphyry, apparently delighted with her unaffected simplicity; “and it will be a great source of pleasure to me to be able to assist in creating your happiness. As for gratitude, there is no necessity for that, at any rate, at present; but when I have succeeded in insuring you all the blessings I wish you to enjoy, you may be as grateful as you please.”
“And you forgive me for my neglect?” asked Lilya, looking up to his face imploringly, and then instantly casting her eyes to the ground.
“Forgive you!” cried her companion kindly, “you have committed no fault. But if it be any satisfaction to you to receive my forgiveness, it is readily granted; indeed, I feel so much pleasure in conferring it, that I hope you will very soon either commit the same or a similar fault, that I may be allowed the same enjoyment I now possess.”
“No, I will not do so again, because that would be wrong,” observed the bashful maiden; “I should be unworthy of your kindness if, after you had once been so good as to forgive me for a fault I had committed, I committed the same fault again.”