But how you are looking at me! I never saw any one like you before.

My name is John Ridd.

What is your name ?' 'Lorna Doone,' she answered, in a low voice, as if afraid of it, and hanging her head so that I could see only her forehead and eyelashes; 'if you please, my name is Lorna Doone; and I thought you must have known it.' Then I stood up and touched her hand, and tried to make her look at me; but she only turned away the more.

Young and harmless as she was, her name alone made guilt of her.

Nevertheless I could not help looking at her tenderly, and the more when her blushes turned into tears, and her tears to long, low sobs.
'Don't cry,' I said, 'whatever you do.