And it seems to me like it cost him your friendship, and I believe--honest--that's what hurt him the worst.

Now you said we'd talk plain.

Why can't you let him come back ?" She covered her face desperately with her hands.

"I can't!" He rose, defeated, and looking it.
"Well, I mustn't press you," he said, gently.
At that she cried out, and dropped her hands and let him see her face.
"Ah! He was only sorry for me!" He gazed at her intently.

Mary was proud, but she had a fatal honesty, and it confessed the truth of her now; she was helpless.