"I saw them with you in a box at the theater one night, you know," she reminded him.
He was watching her closely, and permitted himself a little sigh of relief. She was looking out of the window at the faint April sunshine which was doing its best to brighten the dull afternoon.
A few days later Powers made his way to her room in the twilight. It was easy to see that her recovery was now an assured thing. She was standing by the window when he entered, and he fancied for the first time that she greeted him a little nervously.
"Your mother and sister have been to see me, Sir Powers," she said. "Wasn't it delightful of them?"
"Well, I don't know," he answered. "It seems to me a very natural thing for them to do. I hope you liked my mother, Eleanor."
"How could any one help it?" she said simply. "Your sister was very kind, too. They spoke as though—I was to go and stay with them—but——"
"Well?" he said.
She was very nervous under his gaze. All her words took flight with her long, carefully planned idea of a livelihood that she had wanted to consult him about.
The feeling in his eyes was unmistakable. A delicate flush stole into her cheeks and she closed her eyes. In the strong light he noticed more clearly the fragility of her appearance. He rose hastily.
"Eleanor," he said, "do not think that I expect too much from you now. But I love you very dearly, and to-day I ask from you only the right to give you my name, so that I may protect you from all evil, whensoever it may come. For the rest I am content to wait."