And then he stopped short, for the girl had turned her glance upon him, wonderingly. “Apologize?” she said; she had never once thought of that view of it, and the word took her by surprise. “Yes,” said Mr. Howard; “I said so many hard and cruel things that I cannot bear to think of them.” Helen still kept her eyes fixed upon him, as she said, “Did you say anything that was not true, Mr. Howard?” The man hesitated a moment, and then he answered: “I said many things that I had no right to say to you.” “That is not it,” said Helen simply. “Did you say anything that was not true?” Again Mr. Howard paused. “I am quite sure that I did,” he said at last. “Most of what I said I feel to have been untrue since I have seen how it affected you.” “Because it made me so ashamed?” said Helen. And then some of the thoughts that possessed her forced their way out, and she hurried on impetuously: “That was the first thing I wanted to tell you. It is really true that you were wrong, for I am not hard-hearted at all. It was something that my--that people were making me do, and all the time I was wretched. It was dreadful, I know, but I was tempted, because I do love beautiful things. And it was all so sudden, and I could not realize it, and I had nobody to advise me, for none of the people I meet would think it was wrong. You must talk to me and help me, because I've got to be very strong; my aunt will be angry, and when I get back perhaps Mr. Harrison will be there, and I shall have to tell him.” Then the girl stopped, out of breath and trembling with excitement; Mr. Howard turned abruptly and fixed his dark eyes upon her. “Tell him,” he said. “Tell him what?” “That I shall not marry him, of course,” answered Helen; the other gave a start, but she was so eager that she did not even notice it. “I could not lose a minute,” she said. “For it was so very dreadful, you know.” “And you really mean not to marry him?” asked the other. “Mean it!” echoed the girl, opening her eyes very wide. “Why, how in the world could you suppose--” And then she stopped short, and laughed nervously. “Of course,” she said, “I forgot; you might suppose anything. But, oh, if I could tell you how I have suffered, Mr. Howard, you would understand that I could never have such a thought again in the world. Please do understand me, for if I had really been so base I should not come to you as I do after what I heard. I cannot tell you how dreadfully I suffered while I was listening, but after I had cried so much about it, I felt better, and it seemed to me that it was the best thing that could have happened to me, just to see my actions as they seemed to someone else,--to someone who was good. I saw all at once the truth of what I was doing, and it was agony to me to know that you thought so of me. That was why I could not rest last night until I had told you that I was really unhappy; for it was something that I was unhappy, wasn't it, Mr. Howard?”