her sweet, low
voice, which had a slight tremble in it as she spoke. "What have I done
to offend you? You never stop and speak to me now, never call at our
house, and always pass me by with a cold frigid bow! Have I done
anything to offend you, Frank?" she entreated again. "If so, tell me;
and I will beg your pardon, for it must have been unintentional on my
part?"

I was foolish, and proud, and conceited. I thought that I would not
allow myself to be deceived twice.

I was bitter and rude. I made a mockery of all the friendly overtures
which she made so lovingly with all the coy bashfulness of her maiden
heart.

I could have strangled myself afterwards, when I thought it all over!

"I'm not aware, Miss Clyde," said I, as stiffly as you please--just as
if she were a stranger to me, and not the dear Min whom I knew and loved
so well--"I am not aware that there is any necessity for your asking my
forgiveness:--if you cannot suggest to yourself the reason for my
altered manner, words on my part would be useless indeed!"

I spoke thus harshly to her, and coldly, when my heart was almost
breaking the while.

"And is that all you have got to say to me, Frank?" she said, still in
the same dear, tender, entreating voice, and with glistening eyes.

My sternness was nearly melted; but I continued to hold out and stand
upon my dignity.

"I have nothing more to add, Miss Clyde," I said, with another
Grandisonian bow.

"Then, Mr Lorton," she said, her grey eyes flashing, and her whole dear
little self roused into a fiery, impulsive little Min--she looked
glorious in her pique!--"then, Mr Lorton, I will not seek to detain you
further--let me pass, sir!" she added passionately, as, relenting of my
behaviour, I tried to stop her and explain my conduct--"Let me pass,
sir! I do not wish to hear another word from you!"

And she walked, as stately as a little queen, into the hall of the
vicarage, tossing up her sweet little dimpled chin proudly; while, I?--
went back disconsolately home, my heart torn with conflicting emotions.

Was I right, or wrong?

Perhaps the rumour of her engagement had not the slightest foundation,
in fact.

However, it was too late now to think about that!

All was over.

We were parted for ever!

CHAPTER TWELVE.

ON THE RIVER.

We left behind the painted buoy
That tosses at the harbour mouth;
And madly danced our heart with joy,
As fast we fleeted to the south.
How