“He groped to the bedside and there he knelt, and buried his face in his hands upon the coverlet. And then--I say it merely as his due, merely as the simple truth--he did the manliest thing that a man ever did. He raised his head and in dignified humility said,-- “‘I have done the most cowardly, the most brutal thing that a man can do. Will you forgive me? Can you forgive me? “I put out my hand to stop him, for it was terrible that a man should be so humble and broken; but he took my hand in both of his and held it. “‘Will you? Can you? he pleaded. “It was the only time that his touch had been other than the cold and perfunctory one of the physician, and--I feel no shame in writing it--it was the first time in my life that the touch of a man’s hand had been so comforting. For a moment his hand seemed to have been thrust through the wall that hitherto had separated us so completely. “‘You were not the one to blame,’ I said. ‘I alone was the guilty one.’ “‘No, no!’ he protested, warmly. ‘What provocation under heaven could excuse such conduct as mine?’ “‘I will forgive you,’ I said, ‘upon one condition.’ “‘And that-------’ “‘You forgive me in turn.’ “Very slowly, as soon as I had said that, the pressure with which he had been holding my hand began to relax. What did that mean, and why did he remain silent, and why did a pain come stealing into my heart? Could not he be as generous as I? Had I overrated him, after all? “‘It was terrible!’ he half whispered. ‘By every obligation resting upon a man, I should have been kind to you. You were my guest as well as my patient. You were crippled and helpless, and unable to defend yourself. You were a woman, looking to every man, by the right of your sex, for comfort and protection. I was a man, owing to you, because you were a woman, all the comfort and protection that every man owes to every woman. All of these obligations I trampled under foot.’ “Why did he put that sting into our reconciliation? Had he not done it so innocently, so unintentionally, it would not have hurt so much. I withdrew my hand from his very slowly; he made no effort to retain it. He did not again ask me to forgive him, and he did not offer me his forgiveness. The breach in the wall was closed, and the barrier stood intact and impregnable between us. “Presently he rose and made a fire, and prepared me something to eat; but I had no appetite. Then he found that I had a fever, and he was much distressed. There was just one comforting touch of sympathy when he said to me,-- “‘You were sobbing all the time I was making the fire and preparing your supper. I promise not to frighten nor distress you again.’ “How did he know I had been sobbing, when I had taken so much pains to conceal it And yet I might have known that his watchfulness upon my welfare is so keen, so unrelaxing, that nothing affecting me can be hidden from him.