mad fellow is simple enough to think you will marry him? Absurd,
Cristel--absurd!"

The poor girl wrung her hands in despair.

"Oh, sir, don't distress me by talking in that way! Do please remember
who you are, and who I am. If I was the miserable means of your coming to
any harm--I can't bear even to speak of it! Pray don't think me bold; I
don't know how to express myself. You ought never to have come here; you
ought to go; you _must_ go!"

Driven by strong impulse, she ran to the place in which I had left my
hat, and brought it to me, and opened the door with a look of entreaty
which it was impossible to resist. It would have been an act of downright
cruelty to persist in opposing her. "I wouldn't distress you, Cristel,
for the whole world," I said--and left her to conclude that I had felt
the influence of her entreaties in the right way. She tried to thank me;
the tears rose in her eyes--she signed to me to leave her, poor soul, as
if she felt ashamed of herself. I was shocked; I was grieved; I was more
than ever secretly resolved to go back to her. When we said good-bye--I
have been told that I did wrong; I meant no harm--I kissed her.

Having traversed the short distance between the cottage and the wood, I
remembered that I had left my walking-stick behind me, and returned to
get it.

Cristel was leaving the kitchen; I saw her at the door which communicated
with the Lodger's side of the cottage. Her back was turned towards me;
astonishment held me silent. She opened the door, passed through it, and
closed it behind her.