There was a new note in her voice, and in her eyes a dreamy look of exquisite happiness which caused Mr. Loveday to wonder as he gazed upon her. Never had she been so beautiful as she was at that moment. In the expression on her face was something sacred and holy, and Mr. Loveday saw that she was deeply stirred by emotions beyond his ken.
"Nansie!"
"Yes, uncle," said Nansie, awaking from her dream.
"You heard what I said?"
"Yes, uncle--but you must not blame Kingsley; you must not blame my dear husband."
"I will not--strongly. Only I should like you to consider what would have been your position if you had not found me in the London wilderness, or, having found me, if I had proved to be hard-hearted instead of a loving uncle."
"What is the use of my considering it," she asked, in a tone of tender playfulness, "when I did find you, and when you proved yourself to be the best of men? It would be waste of time, would it not? Confess now."
"Upon my word," said Mr. Loveday, "I should almost be justified in being cross with you if I did not suspect that any unreasonableness in our conversation must spring from me, in consequence of my not being familiar with the ways of women. But you shall not drive me completely from my point. For your sake, Nansie, I regret that I am poor. I never wished so much to be rich as I do at the present time. You are attending to me, Nansie?"
"Yes, uncle."
"Has your husband sent you any money at all since he has been away?"