“Then, dearest, you know how soon and how bitterly I repented the momentary madness of that night, when in my pride and anger I left you, declining to fulfill my engagement of the morrow. You know how I repented and begged you to take me back, but you can never dream of the anguish I endured when I learned that you were wedded to another--lost to me forever.” Viola remembered repentantly how revengefully she had planned this suffering for him and gloated on the thought of it, and was silent. “But I will not dwell on this past unhappy year, Viola. Suffice it to say that I have suffered enough to atone for the folly of that night--enough even to win your pity and forgiveness. And you are free again, and I grasp at the bare chance of going back to the past that promised such happiness for us both. Oh, Viola, I love you still, more passionately if possible than a year ago, because your loss has taught me your value! Dearest, has your heart grown cold to me, or can you give me a little hope?” “How much in earnest he seems, yet perhaps, like Florian, he can be easily consoled for his disappointment,” thought Viola, as she nerved herself to say, gently: “I am very sorry you have loved me all this while, because I can not give you any hope.” “Is this resentment at my folly, Viola? Do you wish to put me on probation, to punish me as I deserve? Do so if you will, but I shall not complain if only you will try to love me again,” Philip Desha answered her, with sad patience and wistful hope. Viola was touched by his humility--so touched that her voice trembled as she twined her white fingers nervously together, replying: “It is best to be frank with you, is it not? Then believe me, I bear you no resentment for that eventful night, and I do not wish to punish you for anything--least of all for what you did that night, because--because--everything turned out for the best.” “Viola!” incredulously. “For the best,” she repeated, firmly; adding: “I am glad I did not marry you that day, for I found out that I did not love you after all.” If the solid earth had opened at his feet, Philip Desha could not have been more astonished than at that declaration from Viola. His thoughts ran hastily back over the past, and he remembered how easily she had been wooed, and how much she had seemed to love him. He decided that it was pride and pique that moved her now. He would have to overcome both before he could win her back. A deep flush rose to her pale, beautiful face, and she cried, hastily: “I know that you do not believe me--that you are looking back over the past and saying to yourself that I gave you every encouragement to love me, that I even led you on, and almost entrapped you into proposing that night when you fell and hurt yourself, and in my fright I said the most silly things--” “The most charming things--words that kindled hope in my despairing heart and made me the happiest of men!” interrupted her lover, fervently.