not wait to let you hear it by degrees, to be reconciled to it
piecemeal.'

'And I forgive him,' she sighed. 'I scarcely bring myself to believe
that Harry has bled from Otto's hand.'

'It was the accident of the case, Ottilia. We had to meet.'

'To meet?'

'There are circumstances when men will not accept apologies; they--we--
heaven knows, I was ready to do all that a man could do to avoid this
folly--wickedness; give it the worst of titles!'

'It did not occur accidentally?' she inquired. Her voice sounded
strange, half withheld in the utterance.

'It occurred,' said I, feeling my strength ebb and despair set in, 'it
occurred--the prince compelled me to the meet him.'

'But my cousin Otto is no assassin?

'Compelled, I say: that is, he conceived I had injured him, and left me
no other way of making amends.'

Her defence of Otto was in reality the vehement cherishing of her idea of
me. This caused her bewilderment, and like a barrier to the flowing of
her mind it resisted and resisted. She could not suffer herself to
realize that I was one of the brainless young savages, creatures with
claws and fangs.