ope,
namely, that at last I had found what I had looked for in vain so long.
I had to keep my engagement with the Hope-Actons in Scotland; but I
regretted it. I stayed as short a time as I could. I did not ask them to
come here. They offered themselves. I think, if I have been to blame, it
has not been in so heartless a manner as you supposed; and it appears to
me Lady Hope-Acton should not have come. This is my explanation. You can
add the rest for yourself. Have I said enough to soften your harsh
judgment of yesterday?"

Ruth could not speak. The trees were behaving in the most curious
manner, were whirling round, were swaying up and down. The beeches close
in front were dancing quadrilles; now ranged in two long rows, now
setting to partners, now hurrying back to their places as she drew near.

"Sit down," said Charles's voice, gently; "you look tired."

The trunk of a fallen tree suddenly appeared rising up to meet her out
of a slight mist, and she sat down on it more precipitately than she
could have wished. In a few seconds the trees returned to their places,
and the mist, which appeared to be very local, cleared away.

Charles was sitting on the trunk beside her, looking at her intently.
The anger had gone out of his face, and had given place to a look of
deep anxiety and suspense.

"I have not finished yet," he said, and his voice had changed as much as
his face. "There is still something more."

"No, no!" said Ruth. "At least, if there is, don't say it."

"I think I would rather say it. You wish to save me pain, I see; but I
am quite prepared for what you are going to say. I did not intend to
speak to you on the subject for a long time to come, but yesterday's
event has forced my hand. There must be no more misunderstandings
between us. You intend to refuse me, I can see. All the same, I wish to
tell you that I love you, and to ask you to be my wife."

"I am afraid I cannot," said Ruth, almost inaudibly.

"No," said Charles, looking straight before him, "I have asked you too
soon. You are quite right. I did not expect anything different; I only
wished you to know. But, perhaps, some day--"

"Don't!" said Ruth, clasping her hands tightly together. "You don't know
what you are saying. Nothing can make any difference, because--I am
engaged."

She dared not look at his face, but she saw his hand clinch.

For an age neither spoke.

Then he turned his head slowly and looked at her. His face was gray ev