"Then why," asked Aldyth, impetuously, "why did you hold aloof from me because I had inherited Wyndham? Does that make me any different from what I was before? Am I not the same girl I was when first you knew me?"
"No," he said, slowly; "you are not the same to me as when first I saw you."
Aldyth looked at him in wonder. She could not read his grave, set look.
"What do you mean?" she asked, in faltering tones. "How have I altered? Do you think I am elated at my new position? Oh, you mistake me indeed if you think so! It has brought me no happiness. I never needed a true friend more than I do now. But every one disappoints me."
Her last words dealt a wound to Glynne. It cost him an effort to reply calmly.
"Now you are mistaking me," he said. "When I said that, you were not the same to me, I did not mean that you had changed—far less that you were not worthy the highest reverence man can pay woman. It is my feeling that has become—it is because—"
His tones had grown unsteady. He checked himself abruptly. Glancing at him, Aldyth saw with alarm that he had grown pale, and was under the influence of some emotion which made self-control difficult.
"You cannot understand," he continued, after a moment, finding his words with difficulty; "and how can I explain? Of course I might have made a conventional call on you, like any ordinary acquaintance. Doubtless you have a right to reproach me for a breach of courtesy; but I shrank from it—you were more to me. And you must remember that though no change of circumstances can affect you, it makes a difference in the minds of others; it makes people Judge things differently."
As he spoke in broken, hesitating fashion, there dawned on Aldyth a perception of his meaning. Her face grew crimson, then white. She would have spoken, but what could she say? Words came to her lips, but it was impossible to utter them. Quick thoughts, visions of her mother, her sisters, passed before her mind. She felt like one bound and fettered. It seemed long, but it was but a few moments that they stood in silence, the words that had been spoken vibrating in the consciousness of each. He must have known that she understood him now; but the words he had uttered were followed by none of similar purport. He roused himself, and said, with an abrupt change of manner—
"I must not detain you longer. Will you let me walk with you the rest of the way?"