Waveney had forgotten her nervousness in this engrossing topic; but Thorold's answer was a little vague.
"And you will never be faithless again?"
"No!" she returned, flushing at this; "I will try to be more trustful in future." And then, more kindly, "Mr. Chaytor, you were so good to me that miserable evening, I have so often wished to thank you, and tell you that I am not unmindful of your great kindness." Then he checked her.
"Miss Ward, you owe me no gratitude; any one would have done what I did. It is your forgiveness I ought to ask, for I am afraid that in my sympathy and pity I forgot myself."
He said this with such difficulty, and in such a constrained tone, that Waveney looked at him in astonishment. Then, as she saw his expression, her head drooped a little.
"I do not know what you mean," she said, under her breath.
"I cannot explain myself," he returned, hurriedly; "would to heaven that I could. But I think from your manner that you do not misunderstand me. Miss Ward, there is something I want to tell you about myself if you will pardon my egotism. We are good friends, I trust, and if possible I want you to think well of me."
Waveney listened silently to this, but she bit her lip to conceal a smile. Was it likely that she of all persons would think ill of him?
"I am unfortunately placed," he continued. "All my life circumstances have been too strong for me. Other men can please themselves, but I have never been free to choose my own path. Duties and responsibilities have crowded on me from mere boyhood. Fresh ones have come to me within the last few months."
Then Waveney understood that he was speaking of his brother and little Bet, and her attention became almost painful.