Large tears had risen in her eyes; her manner was firm, nevertheless. It seemed to Browne later on, when he recalled all that had happened on that memorable morning, as if two emotions, pride and love, were struggling in her breast for the mastery.
"Will you not forgive me?" he asked, more humbly than he had probably ever spoken to a human being in his life before.
"If you will promise not to repeat the offence," she replied, with a feeble attempt at a smile. "Remember, if I _do_ forgive you, I shall expect you to adhere to your word."
"You do not know how hard it is for me to promise," said Browne; "but since you wish it, I will do as you desire. I promise you I will not follow you again."
"I thank you," she answered, and held out her hand. "I must go now, or madame will be wondering what has become of me. Good-bye, Mr. Browne."
"But do you mean that I am never to see you again?" he inquired in consternation.
"For the moment that is a question I cannot answer," she replied. "I have told you before that my time is not my own; nor do I know how long we shall remain in Paris."
"But if I am to promise this, will you not promise _me_ something in return?" he asked, with a tremble in his voice that he could not control.
"What is it you wish me to promise?" she inquired suspiciously. "You must tell me first."
"It is that you will not leave Paris without first informing me," he answered. "I will not ask you to tell me where you are going, or ask for an interview. All I desire is that you should let me know that you are leaving the city."
"If you will give me your address, I will promise to write and let you know," she said at last.
"I thank you," he answered. Then, refusing to allow him to accompany her any farther, she held out her hand and bade him good-bye. Having done so, she passed up the Broad Walk in the direction they had come, and presently was lost to his view.
"Well, I am a fool if ever there was one," said Browne to himself when he was alone. "If only I had kept a silent tongue in my head about that visit to the Warwick Road, I should not be in the hole I am now. I've scored one point, however; she has promised to let me know when she leaves Paris. I will stay here until that time arrives, on the chance of meeting her again, and then----. Well, what matters what happens then? How sweet she is!"