"I nestled a little closer to him.
" 'What _is_ your name?' I asked.
"He hesitated.
"I lifted my face till my cheek just touched his. I persisted, with my lips close at his ear:
" 'What, no confidence in me even yet! No confidence in the woman who has almost confessed she loves you--who has almost consented to be your wife!'
"He turned his face to mine. For the second time he tried to kiss me, and for the second time I stopped him.
"'If I tell you my name,' he said, 'I must tell you more.'
"I let my cheek touch his again.
" 'Why not?' I said. 'How can I love a man--much less marry him--if he keeps himself a stranger to me?'
"There was no answering that, as I thought. But he did answer it.
" 'It is a dreadful story,' he said. 'It may darken all your life, if you know it, as it has darkened mine.'
"I put my other arm round him, and persisted. 'Tell it me; I'm not afraid; tell it me.'
"He began to yield to my other arm.
" 'Will you keep it a sacred secret?' he said. 'Never to be breathed--never to be known but to you and me?'
"I promised him it should be a secret. I waited in a perfect frenzy of expectation. Twice he tried to begin, and twice his courage failed him.
" 'I can't!' he broke out in a wild, helpless way. I can't tell it!'
"My curiosity, or more likely my temper, got beyond all control.
He had irritated me till I was reckless what I said or what Idid. I suddenly clasped him close, and pressed my lips to his. 'Ilove you!' I whispered in a kiss. '_Now_ will you tell me?'
"For the moment he was speechless. I don't know whether I did it purposely to drive him wild. I don't know whether I did it involuntarily in a burst of rage. Nothing is certain but that Iinterpreted his silence the wrong way. I pushed him back from me in a fury the instant after I had kissed him. 'I hate you!' Isaid. 'You have maddened me into forgetting myself. Leave me. Idon't care for the darkness. Leave me instantly, and never see me again!'
"He caught me by the hand and stopped me. He spoke in a new voice; he suddenly _commanded,_ as only men can.
" 'Sit down,' he said. 'You have given me back my courage--you shall know who I am.'
"In the silence and the darkness all round us, I obeyed him, and sat down.
"In the silence and the darkness all round us, he took me in his arms again, and told me who he was.
----------
"Shall I trust you with his story? Shall I tell you his real name? Shall I show you, as I threatened, the thoughts that have grown out of my interview with him and out of all that has happened to me since that time?
"Or shall I keep his secret as I promised? and keep my own secret too, by bringing this weary, long letter to an end at the very moment when you are burning to hear more!
"Those are serious questions, Mrs. Oldershaw--more serious than you suppose. I have had time to calm down, and I begin to see, what I failed to see when I first took up my pen to write to you, the wisdom of looking at consequences. Have I frightened myself in trying to frighten _you?_ It is possible--strange as it may seem, it is really possible.
"I have been at the window for the last minute or two, thinking.
There is plenty of time for thinking before the post leaves. The people are only now coming out of church.
"I have settled to put my letter on one side, and to take a look at my diary. In plainer words I must see what I risk if I decide on trusting you; and my diary will show me what my head is too weary to calculate without help. I have written the story of my days (and sometimes the story of my nights) much more regularly than usual for the last week, having reasons of my own for being particularly careful in this respect under present circumstances.
If I end in doing what it is now in my mind to do, it would be madness to trust to my memory. The smallest forgetfulness of the slightest event that has happened from the night of my interview with Midwinter to the present time might be utter ruin to me.
" 'Utter ruin to her!' you will say. 'What kind of ruin does she mean?'
"Wait a little, till I have asked my diary whether I can safely tell you."
