u; I've made you cry! Was I--was I all
wrong? Don't, don't--I'll go--Oh, my darling one, God knows I
wouldn't--"

He broke off blankly and stood half sorrowful, half joyous. He knew he
had no right as yet to go to the comfort of the girl now sobbing beside
him, but hope was not dead. And Chris, overcome by this outpouring of
love, now suffered very deep sorrow, while she turned away from him and
hid her face and wept. The poor distracted fool still failed to guess
the truth, for he knew tint tears are the outcome of happiness as well
as misery. He waited, open-mouthed, he murmured something--God knows
what--then he went close and thought to touch her waist, but feared and
laid his hand gently on her shoulder.

"Don't 'e!" she said; and he began to understand and to struggle with
himself to lessen her difficulty.

"Forgive me--forgive me if you can, Chris. Was I all wrong? Then I ought
to have known better--but even an old stick like me--before you, Chris.
Somehow I--but don't cry. I wouldn't have brought the tears to your eyes
for all the world--dense idiot I am--"

"No, no, no; no such thing 't all, Martin. 'Tis I was cruel not to see
you didn't knaw. You've been treated ill, an' I'm cryin' that such a
gude--gude, braave, big-hearted man as you, should be brought to this
for a fule of a gal like me. I ban't worthy a handshake from 'e, or a
kind word. An'--an'--Clem Hicks--Clem be tokened to me these two year
an' more. He'm the best man in the world; an' I hate un for not tellin'
'e--an'--an'--"

Chris sobbed herself to the end of her tears; and the man took his
trial--like a man. His only thought was the sadness his blunder had
brought with it for her. To misread her blush seemed in his humility a
crime. His consistent unselfishness blinded him, for an instant at
least, to his own grief. He blamed himself and asked pardon and prepared
to get away out of her sight as soon as possible.

"Forgive me, Chris--I needn't ask you twice, I know--such a stupid
thing--I didn't understand--I never observed: but more shame to me. I
ought to have seen, of course. Anybody else would--any man of proper
feeling."

"How could 'e see it with a secret chap like him? He ought to have told
'e; I bid un speak months since; an' I thought he had; an' I hate un for
not doing it!"

"But you mustn't. Don't cry any more, and forget all about it. I could
almost laugh to think how blind I've been. We'll both laugh next time we
meet. If yo