He did not repulse her, he simply stood passive with his arms swinging loosely at his side, while Lelia enclosed him in her embrace, with her fair head nestled close to his chin; but he was conscious that not a pulse throbbed faster at her nearness and her tender words. And, looking over the top of her head at her mother, he said rebukingly: “You should not have let Lelia watch all night by a sick-bed. It is bad for her nerves.” “That is just like you, Laurie, always thinking of Lelia before every one else,” smiled Mrs. Ritchie. “Indeed, there was no actual need for the dear girl to stay up, but she insisted on it.” “How could I sleep, and dear Aunt Cy so ill? Besides, I was waiting up for you, Laurie, to get your forgiveness as she wished me,” sobbed Lelia, with dramatic fervor. “Very well, then, my cousin, I forgive you. Sit down and calm yourself,” Laurie answered gently, with a movement to escape from her clinging arms, having all a man’s horror of a scene. But they only tightened in their clasp, and Lelia turned her tempting lips upward, inviting the pressure of his while she murmured rapturously: “You forgive my childish folly, so bitterly repented, and love me again, dear Laurie, thank Heaven.” But no kiss sealed his forgiveness on the full, red lips; Laurie only frowned and averted his face, answering coldly: “I forgive you, Lelia, freely, for your dismissal did not hurt me so much as you feared, or hoped, perhaps, in your anger. But as for loving you again, do not ask it; that is forever impossible!” And he pushed her gently, but resolutely from him into the nearest chair, with a glance of but thinly veiled scorn. But Lelia could be a very clever actress when she wished, combining genuine feeling with dramatic art. She sprang from the chair in which he had placed her and faced him in blended grief and anger. “Oh, cruel, cruel! You repulse me, Laurie, when I humble myself to sue to you for pity and pardon!” she passionately cried. “Oh, this is unkind and unmanly! Can you turn your back coldly on a repentant, humbled heart? Is all your pretended love dead so soon?” “Compose yourself, Lelia, this is not a time for the reproaches you are uttering. There are listeners,” the young man reminded her, with a warning glance about the room. She crested her golden head defiantly: “It does not matter. There are only mama, uncle, and the nurse, and all three are in sympathy with us, and anxious to see us make up our quarrel. Oh, Laurie, I never expected to stoop from my stubborn pride to sue for a reconciliation, though my heart is breaking within me! But don’t you understand why I must stoop to it here by the dying bed of the dear one who commanded it and wished it; and who, perhaps, might rest easier if you would only love me again?” She paused and gazed at him with imploring eyes. But he did not move or speak; he only gazed back in cold displeasure at her persistency. Mrs. Ritchie cried out, reproachfully: