He turned round and broke off in his speech. Mr. Van Decht had disappeared. Sara and he were alone.
CHAPTER XXIX
Ughtred was, on the whole, a man ill versed in women’s ways. Yet even he was conscious of a subtle change in the girl who sat by his side. The frank friendliness of her manner towards him, which had been a constant barrier against any suggestion of more sentimental relations, was for the moment gone. Her eyes were soft and her face was eloquent with beautiful and unspoken sympathy. The change was indefinable, but apparent. Ughtred felt it, and sighed.
“This may be the last talk we shall have together for a long time,” he said, gravely; “perhaps forever. I wonder if I might be permitted—to say something, which has come very near my heart lately.”
“You may say anything you choose,” she murmured.
“You know that lately I have been travelling about my country—trying to get to know my people and to understand them. I will tell you, Sara, what has made the greatest impression upon me. It is their beautiful domesticity. I think that it has taught me to understand a little how much fuller and sweeter life may be when one has a wife to care for, and to help one. And, Sara, I think that I too have been often lonely, and I too have needed a wife.”
“Yes!”
It was no more than a whisper, but it thrilled the man. He touched her fingers—warm and soft, they seemed almost to invite his caress.