Because you are so constant, so changeless, that you cannot be
expected to sympathise with a man who loves a second time," cried
Percival, in an exasperated tone. "And yet this love is as sunlight to
candlelight, as wine to water! But you will never understand that, you,
with your heart given to one man--buried in a grave."

He stopped short; she had half-risen, and made a gesture as if she would
have bidden him be silent.

"There!" he said, vehemently. "I am doing it again. I am hurting you,
grieving you, as I did once before, when I forgot your great sorrow; and
you did right to reprove me then. I know you have hated me ever since. I
know you cannot forgive me for the pain I inflicted. It's, of course, of
no use to say I am sorry; that is an utterly futile thing to do; but as
far as any such feeble reparation is in my power, I am quite prepared to
offer it to you. Sorry? I have cursed myself and my own folly ever
since."

"You are making a mistake, Mr. Heron," said Angela. She felt as if she
could say nothing more.

"How am I making a mistake?" he asked.

"At the time you refer to," she said, in a hurried yet stumbling sort of
way, "when you said what you did, I thought it careless, inconsiderate
of you; but I have not remembered it in the way that you seem to think;
I have not been angry. I have not hated you. There is no need for you to
tell me that you are sorry."

"I think there is every need," he said. "Do you suppose that I am going
away into the Western wilds without even an apology?"

"It is needless," she murmured.

There was a pause, and then he leaned forward and said in a deeper
tone:--

"You would not say that it was needless if you felt now as you did just
then."

She looked at him helplessly, but did not speak.

"It is three years since he died. I don't ask you to forget him, only I
ask whether you could not love someone else--as well?"

"Oh, Mr. Heron, don't ask me," she said, tremblingly. And then she
covered her face with her hands; her cheeks were crimson.

"I will ask nothing," said Percival. "I will only tell you what my
feelings have been, and then I will go away. It's a selfish indulgence,
I know; but I beg of you to grant it. When I had spoken those
inconsiderate words of mine I was ashamed of myself. I saw how much I
had grieved you, and I vowed that I would never come into your presence
again. I went away, and I kept away. You have seen for yourself how I
have tried to avoid