They remained silent until they reached the hotel, then he said:
“Go in and rest in the drawing-room before you go upstairs, and I will bring you a glass of wine.”
She opened the door listlessly, and stopped with a start.
For some one had risen from a seat, and was advancing toward her with outstretched hand, and her name upon his lips.
“Olivia!”
The cloak dropped from her shoulder, and revealed her graceful, girlish form, in its exquisite dress, against which her white skin shone like ivory faintly flushed with rose, and her lovely face went pale and then flushed, and her eyes dilated.
He came forward in his sable-lined traveling-ulster, his handsome face no longer haggard and careworn, as she had seen it last, but eloquent of youth and strength, and—ah, of love and hope!
“Olivia!”
She could not move for a moment; then, panting, she held out her hand.
“You! When—when did you come?”