he said in the softest voice that ever flowed between
two lips, 'have I done aught to offend you?'

Hereupon it went hard with me, not to catch her up and kiss her, in the
manner in which she was looking; only it smote me suddenly that this
would be a low advantage of her trust and helplessness. She seemed to
know what I would be at, and to doubt very greatly about it, whether
as a child of old she might permit the usage. All sorts of things went
through my head, as I made myself look away from her, for fear of being
tempted beyond what I could bear. And the upshot of it was that I said,
within my heart and through it, 'John Ridd, be on thy very best manners
with this lonely maiden.'

Lorna liked me all the better for my good forbearance; because she did
not love me yet, and had not thought about it; at least so far as I
knew. And though her eyes were so beauteous, so very soft and kindly,
there was (to my apprehension) some great power in them, as if she would
not have a thing, unless her judgment leaped with it.

But now her judgment leaped with me, because I had behaved so well; and
being of quick urgent nature--such as I delight in, for the change
from mine own slowness--she, without any let or hindrance, sitting over
against me, now raising and now dropping fringe over those sweet
eyes that were the road-lights of her tongue, Lorna told me all about
everything I wished to know, every little thing she knew, except indeed
that point of points, how Master Ridd stood with her.

Although it wearied me no whit, it might be wearisome for folk who
cannot look at Lorna, to hear the story all in speech, exactly as she
told it; therefore let me put it shortly, to the best of my remembrance.

Nay, pardon me, whosoever thou art, for seeming fickle and rude to thee;
I have tried to do as first proposed, to tell the tale in my own words,
as of another's fortune. But, lo! I was beset at once with many heavy
obstacles, which grew as I went onward, until I knew not where I was,
and mingled past and present. And two of these difficulties only were
enough to stop me; the one that I must coldly speak without the force of
pity, the other that I, off and on, confused myself with Lorna, as might
be well expected.

Therefore let her tell the story, with her own sweet voice and manner;
and if ye find it wearisome, seek in yourselves the weariness.

CHAPTER XX

LORNA BEGINS HER STORY

'I cannot go through all my thoughts so as