"What fools women are!" she murmured, at last.
"I would rather you said that than I," and he laughed softly.
"We are like children," she went on. "The one thing denied to us, that is the thing we must have and cry our eyes out for! I wish—I wish that I were dead or had no heart!"
"The two things are synonymous," he said. "Without a heart one, indeed, might as well be dead."
She looked at him with momentary interest and curiosity.
"They say that you have no heart, Austin."
"But you know that I have," he responded at once. "But we won't talk about my heart, it is a matter of such little consequence, isn't it? And now I think I will go. I have come like the messenger with good tidings, and my presence is now superfluous. You will see Blair shortly. I need scarcely hint that not a word of the past should escape your lips."
He spoke as carelessly and coolly as usual, but his eyes watched hers closely as he waited for her answer.
"No, no," she said; "I will say nothing about—her," and she shuddered.
"Certainly not. Take care you do not. It is grewsome work raising specters, and I warn you that to speak of Margaret Hale to Blair would be to raise a specter which will send him from your side at once."