He stretched out his arms, but she sprang to her feet and put out her palms as a barrier. “No. Let me tell you something. We must have no more misunderstandings--you must be sure--I must be sure. I have no right to take your heart in my hands again. It is I who have broken my faith with you, not you with me. I was truly your wife when I promised you here on the sofa that last time. I knew then that you would, perhaps, lose your head again, and yet I loved you so much that I could not give you up. Then came the night of your father's ball and all the misery, and I was a coward and shut myself up instead of keeping my arms around you and holding you up to the best that was in you, just as Uncle George begged me to do. And when your father turned against you and drove you from your home, all because you had tried to defend me from insult, I saw only the disgrace and did not see the man behind it; and then you went away and I stretched out my arms for you to come back to me and only your words echoed in my ears that you would never come back to me until you were satisfied with yourself. Then I gave up and argued it out and said it was all over--” He had left his seat and at every sentence had tried to take her in his arms, but she kept her palms toward him. “No, don't touch me! You SHALL hear me out; I must empty all my heart! I was lonely and heart-sore and driven half wild with doubts and what people said, my father worse than all of them. And Mr. Willits was kind and always at my beck and call--and so thoughtful and attentive--and I tried and tried--but I couldn't. I always had you before me--and you haunted me day and night, and sometimes when he would come in that door I used to start, hoping it might be you.” “It IS me, my darling!” he cried, springing toward her. “I don't want to hear any more--I must--I will--” “But you SHALL! There IS something more. It went on and on and I got so that I did not care, and one day I thought I would give him my promise and the next day all my soul rebelled against it and it was that way until one night Mr. Horn read aloud a story--and it all came over me and I saw everything plain as if it had been on a stage, and myself and you and Mr. Willits--and what it meant--and what would come of it--and he walked home with me and I told him frankly, and I have never seen him since. And now here is the last and you must hear it out. There is not a word I have said to him which I would recall--not a thing I am ashamed of. Your lips were the last that touched my own. There, my darling, it is all told. I love you with my whole heart and soul and mind and body--I have never loved anybody else--I have tried and tried and couldn't. I am so tired of thinking for myself,--so tired,--so tired. Take me and do with me as you will!”