' He broke out vehemently: 'But always remember this, Lucy: if you had written to me only one little line after that misunderstanding, I declare I should have come back to you.

That ruined me!' he slowly walked as far as the little room would allow him to go, and remained with his eyes on the skirting.
'But, Mr.Barnet, how could I write to you?
There was no opening for my doing so.' 'Then there ought to have been,' said Barnet, turning.

'That was my fault!' 'Well, I don't know anything about that; but as there had been nothing said by me which required any explanation by letter, I did not send one.
Everything was so indefinite, and feeling your position to be so much wealthier than mine, I fancied I might have mistaken your meaning.

And when I heard of the other lady--a woman of whose family even you might be proud--I thought how foolish I had been, and said nothing.' 'Then I suppose it was destiny--accident--I don't know what, that separated us, dear Lucy.

Anyhow you were the woman I ought to have made my wife--and I let you slip, like the foolish man that I was!' 'O, Mr.Barnet,' she said, almost in tears, 'don't revive the subject to me; I am the wrong one to console you--think, sir,--you should not be here--it would be so bad for me if it were known!' 'It would--it would, indeed,' he said hastily.