memory of Tom's mention of that other girl that
Dixon had jilted--the crowning taunt which had hurried Dixon into
showing fight.

"And it must have been true, or it would not have made him so angry,"
thought Rose.

It was a bitter pill for the vain little thing to swallow: the
conviction that she had all along occupied the second place in Dixon's
affections, and that he had cast her away, like that other girl,
without any compunction. Tom would not have done it; and at the
remembrance of him Rose's eyes filled with tears. Rose was returning
from the village, whither she had been sent on a message, and she
shivered a little as she passed the scene of the last night's disaster;
and her alarm found expression in a little cry when she saw Tom Burney
standing there, too, and yet there was nothing to terrify her in the
deprecating glance of his troubled eyes.

"Rose," he said, stretching out his hands, "I don't wonder that you
hate the sight of me, but you can afford to speak kindly to me for this
once? God knows I'm sorry enough for what I've done, heart sorry. I
came here to look at the place again, where I nearly killed a man, just
to let it burn in so that I mayn't forget."

"But--but--you can't have heard that he's not much hurt even? that he's
run away and taken a lot of money that does not belong to him?"

"Oh yes," said Tom, drearily. "But that does not alter things; I can't
forget that I nearly killed him--and myself."

"Oh, Tom, not that! not that!" cried Rose, for the first time pierced
by a pang of keen remorse.

"Yes. I should have drowned myself if Mr. Curzon had not stopped me,"
said Tom, simply. "I was mad, I think, with misery and drink."

Then Rose understood the full meaning of the rector's words that
morning.

"I did not mean to try and see you before I went away," went on Tom,
brokenly; "but I'm glad of the chance to ask your forgiveness for the
hurt I might have done to the man you wished to marry."

"Oh don't! please don't talk like that!" said Rose, Tom's utter
self-abasement and humility rousing all her better nature. "Don't you
see that it's you who ought to forgive me for the cruel way I've
treated you; and if you'd died, Tom, and my wickedness had killed you,
how could I have ever lifted up my head again? I see now how wicked
I've been. I wanted to marry Dixon because he promised to give me
everything I liked: a pretty house and a little servant, and pretty
clothes and thing