"Oh, Mr. Fitzgerald, do not leave me like that. Say one word
of kindness to me before you go. Tell me that you forgive me for the
injury I have done you."

"Yes, I forgive you."

"And is that all? Oh, I will love you so, if you will let me;--as
your friend, as your sister; you shall be our dearest, best, and
nearest friend. You do not know how good he is. Owen, will you not
tell me that you will love me as a brother loves?"

"No!" and the sternness of his face was such that it was dreadful to
look on it. "I will tell you nothing that is false."

"And would that be false?"

"Yes, false as hell! What, sit by at his hearth-stone and see you
leaning on his bosom! Sleep under his roof while you were in his
arms! No, Lady Clara, that would not be possible. That virtue, if it
be virtue, I cannot possess."

"And you must go from me in anger? If you knew what I am suffering
you would not speak to me so cruelly."

"Cruel! I would not wish to be cruel to you; certainly not now, for
we shall not meet again; if ever, not for many years. I do not think
that I have been cruel to you."

"Then say one word of kindness before you go!"

"A word of kindness! Well; what shall I say? Every night, as
I have lain in my bed, I have said words of kindness to you,
since--since--since longer than you will remember; since I first knew
you as a child. Do you ever think of the day when you walked with me
round by the bridge?"

"It is bootless thinking of that now."

"Bootless! yes, and words of kindness are bootless. Between you and
me, such words should be full of love, or they would have no meaning.
What can I say to you that shall be both kind and true?"

"Bid God bless me before you leave me."

"Well, I will say that. May God bless you, in this world and in the
next! And now, Lady Clara Desmond, good-bye!" and he tendered to her
his hand.

She took it, and pressed it between both of hers, and looked up
into his face, and stood so while the fast tears ran down her face.
He must have been more or less than man had he not relented then.
"And Owen," she said, "dear Owen, may God in his mercy bless you
also, and make you happy, and give you some one that you can love,
and--and--teach you in your heart to forgive the injury I have done
you." And then she stooped down her head and pressed her lips upon
the hand which she held within her own.

"Forgive you! Well--I do forgive you. Perhaps it may be right that we
should both forgive;