Tom knelt down by her on both knees, played with her embroidery silks, and finally said:
"Bessie, since we're talking plainly, may I say something?"
"Yes, Tom."
"Somehow, since I came back from Europe, you don't seem so happy as you used—maybe it's only one of my blunders—but I have thought you looked troubled—like a person that was always expecting something dreadful to happen."
She forced a smile upon her lips and then compelled them to answer him:
"Oh, you foolish Tom!"
"Then it is not so!" he urged. "You are not unhappy?"
"How could I be unhappy—is not my life pleasant, prosperous beyond anything I could ever have hoped for?"
"It seems so; that made me think it must be just one of my silly fancies."
"Nothing more, Tom."