A great flash of joy thrilled him: she had come here, then, for no other end than to meet him. He had difficulty in controlling himself. "You have got my letter?" he said.
"Yes, I got it."
He was silent as he stood before her.
"I got it," she repeated, "but I did not read it: papa took it from me and read it, and put it and the carte into the fire. I won't tell you what he said, but I agreed with him, and came to say that you had made a ridiculous mistake."
He was still silent.
"You knew," she went on—"you must have known from the first—that I cared no more for you than I do for the shoe below my foot. Could you think for a moment that I would demean myself by coming here to meet you or any one else? Could you think it? It is impossible. That is all I have to say."
"All?" he echoed.
"Yes, all. But I am sorry you should have made such a mistake—very sorry."
"Thank you," he said, bowing his head; and they each turned and went different ways.
Dr. Brunton went home. "Is Miss Robertson still here?" he said to his sister.