"There is never any smoke without fire." Besides, Min herself did not dislike the curate as I did.
I could see that plainly for myself the night of that birthday party at her house.

His insinuating address and treacherous advances had probably succeeded at last in entrapping her affections.
False, cruel girl that she was, how could she encourage me as she had done, to nurse delusive hopes which, as she must have known, would only end in disappointment! What had been probably sport to her was death to me! And yet, I _could_ not believe it of her.
My pure angel-natured Min, with her darling madonna-like face and honest, trustful grey eyes, to act like this?
No.

It could not be.

It was impossible.
Still, the very next day I saw her walking out alone with the curate.
It must be true, then, I thought; and I ground my teeth in anguish.
I determined to avoid her, never passing her house as I had been previously accustomed to; and, only bowing coldly when I met her in the street.
At last she spoke to me one day, as I was coming out of the vicarage.
She was just going to knock at the door; so I encountered her face to face on the step, without a chance of escape.
She held out her hand to me.
I took it mechanically, and then let it drop; raising my hat at the same time, without saying a word.
She addressed me with heightened colour and a wistful look in the deep, grey eyes.
"Why are you so angry with me, Frank ?" she asked in 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.