THE MAN FROM GLENGARRY
could hear the minister talking to Harry; and some one was moving toward the door.
"Tell me, Maimie, quick," said Ranald, and though his voice was intense and stern, there was appeal in it as well.
She took a step nearer him, and looking up into his face, said, in a whisper, "Yes, Ranald, I will always remember you, and think of you."
Swiftly, almost fiercely, he threw his arms about her, and kissed her lips, then he stood back looking at her.
"I could not help it," he said, boldly. "You made me."
"Made you?" exclaimed Maimie, her face hot with blushes.
"Yes, you made me. I could not help it," he repeated. "And I do not care if you are angry. I am glad I did it."
"Glad?" echoed Maimie again, not knowing what to say.
"Yes, glad," he said, exultantly. "Are you?"
She made no reply. The door opened behind them. She sank down upon the piano-stool and let her hands fall upon the keys.
"Are you?" he demanded, ignoring the interruption.
With her head low down, while she struck the chords of the hymn they had just sung, she said, hesitatingly, "I am not sorry."
"Sorry for what?" said Harry.
"Oh, nothing," said Maimie, lightly.
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