When he opened the door she was sitting with her face hidden in her
hands. At the sound of the door opening she glanced up, and Edwin saw
tears.

She turned away instantly. He went up to her and said, "I did not mean
to intrude. I forgot to ask if I should tell one of the servants to
come."

"No, you needn't."

"Bessie," he said, "you are not well, and something is vexing you.
Could you not tell me about it. I mean nothing but kindness."

"I know you don't," she said almost fiercely, "and I hate kindness:
it's an insult."

He stood in blank astonishment, "An insult?" he said.

"Yes, an insult; and if you were not obtuse you would see it. But you
don't see and you don't feel, or you would never have tried to make
any one care for you for whom you did not care a bit. But I won't care
for you, and I don't."

Off her guard, she had been stung into this. She was standing away
from him, her head erect and her eyes gleaming through tears: Mary
Stuart herself could not have been more effective.

"Care for you! not care for you!" he said in a voice he could hardly
control. "I have cared for you as I never cared for a thing on earth: