did not say anything, and Gregory was forced to ask: "Do you wish to know
who sent them? I won't tell you unless you do wish it."

"I think I ought to know," she said, and she asked, "Don't you?"

"Yes; for you must blame some one else now, for what you thought Fane
did. I sent them to you."

Clementina's heart gave a leap in her breast, and she could not say
anything. He went on.

"I saw that you wanted them that day, and when the peddler happened to
overtake me in the woods where I was walking, after I left you, I acted
on a sudden impulse, and I bought them for you. I meant to send them to
you anonymously, then. I had committed one error in acting upon
impulse-my rashness is my besetting sin--and I wished to add a species of
deceit to that. But I was kept from it until-to-day. I hoped you would
like to wear them to the dance to-night, and I put them in the
post-office for you myself. Mr. Fane didn't know anything about it. That
is all. I am to blame, and no one else."

He waited for her to speak, but Clementina could only say, "I don't know
what to say."

"You can't say anything that would be punishment enough for me. I have
acted foolishly, cruelly."

Clementina did not think so. She was not indignant, as she was when she
thought Fane had taken this liberty with her, but if Mr. Gregory thought
it was so very bad, it must be something much more serious than she had