"I am going back for the ring, Pam. Run away home now, and I shall bring it. Run now—I can keep you in sight till I see you within the door of Carrickmoyle. I shall not be long."
"The ring is on the ground, by the well," said Pamela, her head hanging like the head of a sensitive child caught in the act of wrongdoing. "You will find it there, and my necklet and bracelet also."
Her voice stumbled as she made her full confession.
"Poor Pam!" said Lord Glengall.
"Ah!" she said, "if you would only forget about it. There was never any man like you. If I do not love you now, it is only because he came first. I shall love you in time. I could not help it."
"Kiss me, Pam, before you go. I have not asked you for kisses when I might."
"I have done nothing but hurt you," she cried, conscience-stricken. Then she lifted her face for his kiss.
"I have done nothing but hurt you," she said.
"And I have been hurting you, quite unconsciously, all the time. It is the old story of May and December. But, thank God! it is not too late."