“I don’t know how I ever could have thought I was brave enough to do it, but I did want the house so, and I wanted to frighten you”
“To frighten me. Why?”
“Because I am your cousin Selwyn,” she said, hiding her face in her hands.
“And you knew me?” I asked.
“By your ring,” she said. “I saw your father wear it when I was a little girl. Can’t we get back to the inn now?”
“Not unless you want every one to know how silly we have been.”
“I wish you’d forgive me,” she said when we had talked awhile, and she had even laughed at the description of the pallid young man on whom I had bestowed, in my mind, her name.
“The wrong is mutual,” I said; “we will exchange forgivenesses.”
“Oh, but it isn’t,” she said eagerly. “Because I knew it was you, and you didn’t know it was me: you wouldn’t have tried to frighten me.”
“You know I wouldn’t.” My voice was tenderer than I meant it to be.
She was silent.
“And who is to have the house?” she said.
