She did not speak, but, giving herself up to the joy of the situation, she let her hands rest in his and gazed wistfully in his face, while Ruth sat in her place in the schoolroom and trembled, she knew not why.
“You do not speak,” said Glen. “Tell me, for heaven’s sake tell me, that this is all in opposition to your sister’s wishes.”
Marie still gazed wistfully in his face, and her hands, in spite of herself, returned the warm pressure of his.
“Surely—oh no; I will not believe it!” cried Glen. “It cannot be so. Marie, dear Marie, pray have compassion on me and tell me the truth.”
“Do—you wish me to tell you?” she said in a low voice that trembled with suppressed emotion.
“Yes, everything. If you have any feeling for me, tell me honestly all.”
Marie’s hands trembled more and more, and her colour went and came as she spoke.
“I will tell you what you wish, Captain Glen,” she said, in her low rich tones; “but do not blame me if it gives you pain.”
“I will not; only pray put an end to this terrible anxiety.”
There was a few moments’ silence, and then Glen said huskily: