"I do not know why I should have given way when all danger was over--I believe there is no parallel case in the life of any celebrated woman--but I suppose I was tired out. My anxiety and fright, a night spent on a hard board, the surprise of meeting Mr. Kenderdine,--whatever it was, I leaned back in the corner of the seat, took out my handkerchief, and cried harder than I had ever done in my life before. He was greatly alarmed, but, like a sensible man, waited until I became more composed, and when I was able to tell him, instead of blaming me or thinking I was stupid, he censured himself for not accompanying me. "'I did mean to ask your permission to do so, Miss Eleanor,' he said slightly embarrassed, 'and I was prig enough to think you would allow it, but when you told me of your engagement I did not dare. After you left I had a dread that something might happen, and I could not rest satisfied until I had made up my mind to come on and see that you had arrived safely. I thought you would forgive me, as it is for the last time, and De Vezin need not be jealous, for he will have you for ever, while I--' Fred can be wonderfully pathetic. "Then I made up my mind to undeceive him, as was my duty, you know. I told him very gently that he was under a false impression. I was not engaged: my aunt had educated me for a purpose, and we both had quite determined that I should never marry, but instead do something great in the world, though I had not yet decided what. I explained it to him fully, so that there should be no more mistakes about it. When I ended I did not venture to look at him for a long time, fearing to see him grieved at this irrevocable barrier; but when I did, what was my surprise to see his face beaming with joy! He began impetuously, 'If you had told me I was to be crowned at Brussels, it would not be better news. I was sure it was De Vezin who separated us. Now I can hope.' "'You must not talk in that way if you do not want our friendship to cease: you offend me deeply. Can't you see that if you persist in this idea of yours, our pleasant acquaintance must end?' It was so frivolous in Fred, and I spoke very decidedly. "'Not at all, Eleanor: it would only begin. Why should not our whole life be like this past year?' "'You know it can't,' said I. 'Haven't I told you the reason?' "'It will be no reason when De Vezin asks you,' said he suspiciously. "'De Vezin is nothing to me.' "'You carry a _gage d'amour_ from him on your watch-chain at this very minute.' "Now, wasn't that talk silly? De Vezin had brought me a two-centime piece one day because I said I had never seen one, and I put a hole in it and hung it to my chain. Fred to call that a _gage d'amour!_ "'Nonsense!' said I.