be hard towards them as have done wrong and repent."
Adam spoke these words with the firm distinctness of a man who is resolved to leave nothing unsaid that he is bound to say; but he went on with more hesitation:
"I wouldn't shake hands with you once, sir, when you asked me—but if you're willing to do it now, for all I refused then". . .
Arthur's white hand was in Adam's large grasp in an instant, and with that action there was a strong rush, on both sides, of the old, boyish affection.
"Adam," Arthur said, impelled to full confession now, "it would never have happened, if I'd known you loved her. That would have helped to save me from it. And I did struggle: I never meant to injure her. I deceived you afterwards—and that led on to worse; but I thought it was forced upon me, I thought it was the best thing I could do. And in that letter, I told her to let me know if she were in any trouble: don't think I would not have done everything I could. But I was all wrong from the very first, and horrible wrong has come of it. God knows, I'd give my life if I could undo it."
