He paused again, and ventured to draw a little nearer to her; but as she still shrank from him, and leaned against the tree, he stopped short and did not venture to take her hand. "Now I have just left Mr. Falconer, I have heard from his own lips that there is no engagement, that----Oh, Nell! It was the knowledge that you were still free that sent me to you just now, that made me cry out to you as I did! I love you, Nell, more dearly, more truly, if that be possible, than I did! Won't you forgive me the folly which made you send me away from you? Won't you let me try and win back your love?" There was silence, broken only by the rustle of the leaves in the summer breeze, by the note of a linnet singing in the branches above their heads. "See, dear, I plead as a man pleads for his life! And on your answer hangs all that makes life worth living. Forgive me, Nell, and give me back your love! I have been punished enough, rest assured of that. Forgive me that past folly and deceit, Nell! I'll teach you to forget in time. Dearest, you loved me, did you not? You loved me until that night of the ball--at the Maltbys'--when you discovered who I was!" Back it all came to her, and she turned her face to him with grief and reproach in her violet eyes. "I was on the terrace," she said, almost inaudibly. "It is you who forget. It was not because you kept your right name and rank from me. I was on the terrace. I saw you and--and Lady Luce!" He started, and his hand fell to his side. He could not speak for a moment, the shock was so great, and in silence he recalled, saw as in a flash of lightning, all the incidents of that night. "You--you were there? You saw--heard?" he said, half mechanically. "Yes," she said. She was calm, unnaturally calm now, and her voice was grave and sad rather than reproachful. "I saw and heard everything. I saw her and Lady Chesney before you came out. I heard Lady Luce telling her friend that you and she were engaged, that you had parted, but that she still cared for you, and that you would come back to her; and when you came out of the house on the terrace, I saw her--and you----Oh, why do you make me tell you? It is hateful, shameful!" She turned her face away, as if she could not bear his gaze fixed on her with amazement, and yet with some other emotion qualifying it. "You saw Lady Luce come to meet me, heard her speak to me, saw her kiss me?" he said, almost to himself; and even at that moment she was conscious of the fact that there was no shame in his voice, none in his eyes. She made a motion with her hand as if imploring him to say no more, to leave her; but he caught at her hand and held it, though she strove to release it from his grasp. "My God! and that was the reason? Why, oh, Nell! Nell! why did you not tell me what you had seen? Why did you say no word of it in your letter? If you had done so--if you had only done so!" She looked at him sadly.