'You must permit me,' he cried, 'to shut the door; and you must grant me two minutes audience.' She neither consented nor offered any opposition. He closed the door, but she kept her place. 'Tell--speak to me, I beseech you!' he cried, 'Oh clear the cruel doubts--' 'No more, my lord, no more!' interrupted Ellis, scorn taking possession of every feature; 'I will neither give to myself the disgrace, nor to your lordship the shame, of permitting another word to be said!' 'What is it you mean?' cried he, planting himself against the door; 'you would not--surely you would not brand me for a villain?' She determined to have recourse to the bell, and, with the averted eyes of disdain, resolutely moved towards the chimney. He saw her design, and cast himself upon his knees, calling out, in extreme agitation, 'Miss Ellis! Miss Ellis! you will not assemble the servants to see me groveling upon the earth?' Greatly shocked, she desisted from her purpose. His look was aghast, his frame was in a universal tremour, and his eyes were wild and starting. Her wrath subsided at this sight, but the most conflicting emotions rent her heart. 'I see,' he cried, in a tremulous voice, and almost gnashing his teeth, 'I see that you have been defamed, and that I have incurred your abhorrence!--I have my own, too, completely! You cannot hate me more than I now hate--than I shrink from myself! And yet--believe me, Miss Ellis! I have no deliberate hardness of heart!--I have been led on by rash precipitance, and--and want of thought!--Believe me, Miss Ellis!--believe me, good Miss Ellis!--for I see, now, how good you are!--believe me--' He could find no words for what he wished to say. He rose, but attempted not to approach her. Ellis leant against the wainscoat, still close to the bell, but without seeking to ring it. Both were silent. His extreme youth, his visible inexperience, and her suspicious situation; joined to his quick repentance, and simple, but emphatic declaration, that he had no hardness of heart, began not only to offer some palliation for his conduct, but to soften her resentment into pity. He no sooner perceived the touching melancholy which insensibly took place, in her countenance, of disgust and indignation, than, forcibly affected, he struck his forehead, exclaiming, 'Oh, my poor Aurora!--when you know how ill I have acted, it will almost break your gentle heart!'