And Malcolm's conscience pricked him unmercifully.
Later on he found himself alone with her.

She was drawing at a little round table, and he went and stood by her.
"Annachen," he said caressingly, as he put his hand under her chin and made her look at him, "I was a brute to speak to you as I did.

Of course you meant it kindly, dear, but it seemed to rub me up the wrong way.

I think I am tired this evening; anyhow, my head aches." And Malcolm might have added with truthfulness that his heart ached too.
"Yes, and I worried you; it was very tactless and foolish on my part," and again the ready tears started to Anna's eyes.

But Malcolm would not allow this--his dear little Anna was always kind and thoughtful, and he had no right to be so savage with her.
"My mother is always hinting at my changed looks, but indeed I try to be as usual.