Now he showed signs of forgiveness, her courage returned.

When they had passed the turn of the road, and were on the main street, she spoke quite sweetly and calmly.
"There is something I have been wanting to say to you," said she.

"I tried to say it the other night when I was riding and met you, but I did not succeed very well.

What I wanted to say was--I fear that when you suggested coming to see me, the Sunday night after my party, I did not seem cordial enough, and make you understand that I should be very happy to see you, and that was why you did not come." "O--h!" said Jerome, with a long-drawn breath of wonder and despair.
He had been thinking that he had offended her beyond forgiveness and of his own choice, and she, with her sweet humility, was twice suing him for pardon.
"I am very sorry," Lucina said, softly.
"That was not the reason why I did not," Jerome gasped.
"Then you were not hurt ?" "No; I--thought you spoke as if you would like to have me come--" "Perhaps you were ill," Lucina said, hesitatingly.
"No, I was not.

I did not--" "Oh, it was not because you did not want to come!" Lucina cried out, quickly, and yet with exceeding gentleness and sad wonder, that he should force such a suspicion upon her.
"No, it was not.