“I spoke as I felt,” she replied, “and in justice to you. It made my heart sorry that you should be so unkindly used.”
By this time they had reached the garden gate; and Miss Vandeleur, having set the candle on the ground, was already unfastening the bolts.
“One word more,” said Francis. “This is not for the last time—I shall see you again, shall I not?”
“Alas!” she answered. “You have heard my father. What can I do but obey?”
“Tell me at least that it is not with your consent,” returned Francis; “tell me that you have no wish to see the last of me.”
“Indeed,” replied she, “I have none. You seem to me both brave and honest.”
“Then,” said Francis, “give me a keepsake.”
She paused for a moment, with her hand upon the key; for the various bars and bolts were all undone, and there was nothing left but to open the lock.
“If I agree,” she said, “will you promise to do as I tell you from point to point?”
“Can you ask?” replied Francis. “I would do so willingly on your bare word.”