As she sat looking straight before her, across the changing lights upon the grass into the darkness of the wood beyond, he saw in her face her application of his very distinctly uttered words.

“All allowance,” he continued, “must be made. I have one great fault to find with Tom, however, which I cannot forgive, and for which I take him heavily to account.”

Louisa turned her eyes to his face, and asked him what fault was that?

“Perhaps,” he returned, “I have said enough. Perhaps it would have been better, on the whole, if no allusion to it had escaped me.”

“You alarm me, Mr. Harthouse. Pray let me know it.”