consciousness of each other's presence. She sat motionless
now--trembling, exulting. She could no longer hear the talking of the
water, but she heard his step. He was coming slowly towards her. She
did not look up--she waited; and while she waited time was
annihilated.

He was coming to her to treat her as if she were a fond child; that
she, of all women, could permit it was still delicious to him, and a
marvel. She had let him do it yesterday, but perhaps she had regained
her independence in the night. As he hesitated he became another
person. In a flood of feeling he had a fierce desire to tell her the
truth about himself. But he did not know what it was. He put aside his
rod, and sat down very miserably beside her.

"Grizel, I suppose I am a knave." His lips parted to say it, but no
words came. She had given him an adorable look that stopped them as if
her dear hand had been placed upon his mouth.

Was he a knave? He wanted honestly to know. He had not tried to make
her love him. Had he known in time he would even have warned her
against it. He would never have said he loved her had she not first,
as she thought, found it out; to tell her the truth then would have
been brutal. He had made believe in order that she might remain happy.
Was it even make-belief? Assuredly he did love her in his own way, in
the only way he was capable of. She was far more to him than any
other person except Elspeth. He delighted in her, and would have
fought till he dropped rather than let any human being injure her. All
his feelings for her were pure. He was prepared to marry her; but if
she had not made that mistake, oh, what a delight it would have been
to him never to marry anyone! He felt keenly miserable.