I should
almost have had to push past Mr. Winston, if I'd persisted in escaping,
which would have looked childish, so quickly I resolved to stand my
ground--in the summer-house--and face it out. My heart was beating so
fast I could hardly think, and I had to tell myself crossly, with a sort
of mental shake, that after all _he_ was the guilty one, not I, before I
could catch at even a decent amount of _savoir faire_.

Naturally, as it was the only thing to be said, his lips asked the same
question his eyes had asked before. "Can you forgive me?"

I always thought Brown's voice one of the nicest things about him,
unless perhaps his eyes; and both were at their very nicest now. I
hadn't realized, till he came to me, how much I should _want_ to forgive
him. I did want to, awfully, but I felt it would never do; and I think I
must have been commendably dignified as I answered: "The hardest
possible thing for a woman to forgive a man is making her ridiculous."

"But then," he cut in, quite boldly, "I don't ask you to forgive me for
a sin I haven't committed, only for those I have."

"You _have_ made me ridiculous," I insisted.

"I fancied it was myself; but I didn't mind that, or anything else which
gave me a chance of being near you, even under false pretences. It is
for deceiving you that I ask to be forgiven. I lived a good many lies as
Brown, but honestly, I believe I never told one. Do forgive me. I
sha'n't be able to bear my life if you don't."

"I can't forgive you," I said again.

"Then punish me first and forgive me afterwards--very soon. I deserve
that you should do both."

"I think you do deserve the first, but I don't quite see how or why you
deserve the second."

"Because I worship you, and would rather be your servant than be king of
a country in which you didn't live."

"Oh!" I couldn't say another word, for thinking of Brown being in love
with me, and there being no reason why I shouldn't let myself love him
too--except, of course, one's self-respect after all that had happened.
But just for an instant I didn't think about that last part; and I was
so surprised, and so happy--or so shocked and so unhappy (I couldn't be
sure which; only, whatever the sensation was, it was very violent), that
I was speechless.

Brown took advantage of that, and talked a great deal more. I tried to
look away from him, but I simply couldn't. He held my eyes, and after he
had told me whole chapters about his thoughts a