When these two bade each other good-night it was only natural that they should reach the point toward which they had been veering for twelve months.
Miss Thorne remained in the room, drawing nearer the fire with an amiable little shiver, well excused by the mountain coolness, but Rebecca was beguiled into stepping out into the moonlight The brightness of the moon and the blackness of the shadows cast by trees and rocks and undergrowth, seemed somehow to heighten the effect of the intense and utter stillness reigning around them,—even the occasional distant cry of some wandering wild creature marked, rather than broke in upon, the silence. Rebecca's glance about her was half nervous.
“It is very beautiful,” she said, “and it moves one strongly; but I am not sure that it is not, in some of one's moods, just a little oppressive.”
It is possible Lennox did not hear her. He was looking down at her with eager eyes. Suddenly he had caught her hand to his lips and kissed it.
“You know why I am here, Rebecca,” he said. “Surely, all my hoping is not vain?”
She looked pale and a little startled; but she lifted her face and did not draw herself away.
“Is it?” he asked again. “Have I come on a hopeless errand?”
“No,” she answered. “You have not.”
His words came freely enough then and with fire. When Rebecca reentered the cabin her large eyes shone in her small, sweet face, and her lips wore a charming curve.
Miss Thorne turned in her chair to look at her and was betrayed into a smile.