“You’re so young, you know, Hetty,” he went on, almost tenderly, “and y’ haven’t seen much o’ what goes on in the world.  It’s right for me to do what I can to save you from getting into trouble for want o’ your knowing where you’re being led to.  If anybody besides me knew what I know about your meeting a gentleman and having fine presents from him, they’d speak light on you, and you’d lose your character.  And besides that, you’ll have to suffer in your feelings, wi’ giving your love to a man as can never marry you, so as he might take care of you all your life.”

Adam paused and looked at Hetty, who was plucking the leaves from the filbert-trees and tearing them up in her hand.  Her little plans and preconcerted speeches had all forsaken her, like an ill-learnt lesson, under the terrible agitation produced by Adam’s words.  There was a cruel force in their calm certainty which threatened to grapple and crush her flimsy hopes and fancies.  She wanted to resist them—­she wanted to throw them off with angry contradiction—­but the determination to conceal what she felt still governed her.  It was nothing more than a blind prompting now, for she was unable to calculate the effect of her words.

“You’ve no right to say as I love him,” she said, faintly, but impetuously, plucking another rough leaf and tearing it up.  She was very beautiful in her paleness and agitation, with her dark childish eyes dilated and her breath shorter than usual.  Adam’s heart yearned over her as he looked at her.  Ah, if he could but comfort her, and soothe her, and save her from this pain; if he had but some sort of strength that would enable him to rescue her poor troubled mind, as he would have rescued her body in the face of all danger!

“I doubt it must be so, Hetty,” he said, tenderly; “for I canna believe you’d let any man kiss you by yourselves, and give you a gold box with his hair, and go a-walking i’ the Grove to meet him, if you didna love him.  I’m not blaming you, for I know it ’ud begin by little and little, till at last you’d not be able to throw it off.  It’s him I blame for stealing your love i’ that way, when he knew he could never make you the right amends.  He’s been trifling with you, and making a plaything of you, and caring nothing about you as a man ought to care.”

“Yes, he does care for me; I know better nor you,” Hetty burst out.  Everything was forgotten but the pain and anger she felt at Adam’s words.

“Nay, Hetty,” said Adam, “if he’d cared for you rightly, he’d never ha’ behaved so.  He told me himself he meant nothing by his kissing and presents, and he wanted to make me believe as you thought light of ’em too.  But I know better nor that.  I can’t help thinking as you’ve been trusting to his loving you well enough to marry you, for all he’s a gentleman.  And that’s why I must speak to you about it, Hetty, for fear you should be deceiving yourself.  It’s never entered his head the thought o’ marrying you.”