'What shall I do?' cried she: 'what will he say?--No doubt he is impatiently expecting me; and, in his weak state, disappointment may--' Here, unable to hear her apprehensions, she wrung her hands in agony; and when she arrived in sight of her lodgings she dared not look up, lest she should see Glenmurray at the window watching for her return. Slowly and fearfully did she open the door; and the first sound she heard was Glenmurray's voice from the door of his room, saying, 'So, you are come at last!--I have been so impatient!' And indeed he had risen and dressed himself, that he might enjoy his treat more than he could do in a sick-bed. 'How can I bear to look him in the face!' thought Adeline, lingering on the stairs. 'Adeline, my love! why do you make me wait so long?' cried Glenmurray. 'Here are knives and plates ready; where is the treat I have been so long expecting?' Adeline entered the room and threw herself on the first chair, avoiding the sight of Glenmurray, whose countenance, as she hastily glanced her eyes over it, was animated with the expectation of a pleasure which he was not to enjoy. 'I have not brought the pine-apple,' she faintly articulated. 'No!' replied Glenmurray, 'how hard upon me!--the only thing for weeks that I have wished for, or could have eaten with pleasure! I suppose you were so long going that it was disposed of before you got there?' 'No,' replied Adeline, struggling with her tears at this first instance of pettishness in Glenmurray. 'Pardon me the supposition,' replied Glenmurray, recovering himself: 'more likely you met some dun on the road, and so the two guineas were disposed of another way--If so, I can't blame you. What say you? Am I right?' 'No.' 'Then how was it?' gravely asked Glenmurray. 'You must have had a very powerful and a sufficient reason, to induce you to disappoint a poor invalid of the indulgence which you had yourself excited him to wish for.' 'This is terrible, indeed!' thought Adeline, 'and never was I so tempted to tell a falsehood.' 'Still silent! You are very unkind, Miss Mowbray,' said Glenmurray; 'I see that I have tired even _you_ out.' These words, by the agony which they excited, restored to Adeline all her resolution. She ran to Glenmurray; she clasped his burning hands in hers; and as succinctly as possible she related what had passed. When she had finished, Glenmurray was silent; the fretfulness of disease prompted him to say, 'So then, to the relief of strangers you sacrificed the gratification of the man whom you love, and deprived him of the only pleasure he may live to enjoy!' But the habitual sweetness and generosity of his temper struggled, and struggled effectually, with his malady; and while Adeline, pale and trembling, awaited her sentence, he caught her suddenly to his bosom, and held her there a few moments in silence. 'Then you forgive me?' faltered out Adeline.