For a moment her lips
faltered; then a slow flush came up, with a quick change of expression
on her thin, worn face, and, reddening to painful scarlet, died away
in a deeper pallor.
"Dr. Renton," she said, hastily, "I have no ill-feeling for you, sir,
and I know you were hurt and vexed; and I know you have tried to make
it up to me again, sir, secretly. I know who it was, now; but I can't
take it, sir. You must take it back. You know it was you sent it, sir?"
"Mrs. Miller," he replied, puzzled beyond measure, "I don't understand
you. What do you mean?"
"Don't deny it, sir. Please not to," she said imploringly, the tears
starting to her eyes. "I am very grateful,--indeed I am. But I can't
accept it. Do take it again."
"Mrs. Miller," he replied, in a hasty voice, "what do you mean? I have
sent you nothing,--nothing at all. I have, therefore, nothing to
receive again."
She looked at him fixedly, evidently impressed by the fervor of his
denial.
"You sent me nothing to-night, sir?" she asked, doubtfully.
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