He paused again, looking straight at her with such confident, lucid, trusting eyes,—and she felt that she must say something to divert their gaze.
"Exceptions, such as Miss Fisher's favorite mount, Madcap? How pretty Mildred was to-day! Really beautiful; don't you think so?"
"No." His expression was so tender, so wistful, yet so confident, that, amazed, embarrassed, she felt her color begin to flame in her cheeks. "How could she seem beautiful where you are,—the loveliest woman in all the world and the best beloved."
"Captain Baynell!" she exclaimed, hardly believing that she heard him aright. "I do not understand the manner in which you have seen fit to speak to me this evening." She paused abruptly, for he was looking at her with a palpable surprise.
"You must know—you must have seen—that I love you!" he said hastily. "Almost from the moment that I first saw you I have loved you—but more and more, hour by hour, and day by day, as I have learned to know you, to appreciate you—so perfect and so peerless!"
"You surprise me beyond measure. I must beg—I insist that you do not continue to speak to me in this strain."
"Do you mean to say that you did not know it—that you did not perceive it?"
"I did not dream it for one moment," she replied.
It seemed as if he could not accept her meaning. He pondered on the words as if they might develop some difference.
"You afflict me beyond expression!" he exclaimed with a sort of desperate breathlessness. "You destroy my dearest hopes. How could you fail—how could I fancy! I—I would not suggest the subject as long as your mourning attire repelled it, but—but—since—since—I—I thought you knew all my heart and I might speak!"