There was a pause of perhaps three seconds. Then Lennox moved slowly toward her. Almost unconsciously he laid his hand upon her heaving shoulder and so stood trembling a little.
When Rebecca paid her next visit to the picture it struck her that it appeared at a standstill. As she looked at it her lover saw a vague trouble growing slowly in her eyes.
“What!” he remarked. “It does not please you?”
“I think,” she answered,—“I feel as if it had not pleased you.”
He fell back a few paces and stood scanning it with an impression at once hard and curious.
“Please me!” he exclaimed in a voice almost strident. “It should. She has beauty enough.”
On her return home that day Rebecca drew forth from the recesses of her trunk her neglected writing folio and a store of paper.
Miss Thorne, entering the room, found her kneeling over her trunk, and spoke to her.
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
Rebeeca smiled faintly.