When she saw who it was her heart stood still; then in one brief moment the face of the universe had changed for her for ever.
"Lord Watergate!"
"I said I would come again. I have come in spite of you. You will not tell me that I come too soon, or in vain?"
"You must not think that I did not value what you offered me," she said simply, though her voice shook; "that I did not think myself deeply honoured. But I was afraid—I have suffered very much."
"And I.... Oh, Gertrude, my poor child, and I have left you all this time."
For the light, flickering upwards, had shown him her weary, haggard face; had shown him also the pathetic look of her eyes as they yearned towards him in entreaty, in reliance,—in love.
He had taken her in his arms, without explanation or apology, holding her to his breast as one holds a tired child.
And she, looking up into his face, into the lucid depths of his eyes, felt all that was mean and petty and bitter in life fade away into nothingness; while all that was good and great and beautiful gathered new meaning and became the sole realities.
