Mr. Lennox looked as if he knew another unselfish person, and Grace continued hurriedly: “Every one thought the marriage went off so well, and the day was certainly perfect Didn't Gertrude and Frances make lovely brides, each in her own way?”
“So the people said, and I know how they would look; but it happened that I stood where I could only see the bridesmaids.”
“Will you excuse me putting the roses in water? they are the finest I've seen this summer, and I want to keep them fresh,” and she escaped for the moment He watched her place one dish on the end of the grand piano and another on a table near her mother's chair, and a yearning look came over his face.
They talked of many things, but both were thinking of one only, and then it was she, In her kindness, that provoked the catastrophe.
“You will come again and see mother; she misses Gerty and Frances, and it is very pleasant to have a talk with old friends.”
“And you, Grace—Miss Leconte, I mean—may I not come to visit you?”
“You know that I am glad when you come, and always will be; you are my friend also,” and she looked at him with frank, kind eyes.
“Nothing more than friend after all these years—seven now since first we met Do you not guess what I was thinking as your sisters stood beside their bridegrooms in church?” But she did not answer.
“Can you give me no hope, Grace? If you told me to come back in five years, I would count them days for the joy of hearing you call me by my name at the end, as a woman speaks to the man she loves.”
“You ought not to open this matter again” but she was not angry, “for my mind is made up, and cannot be changed. There is no man living whom I respect more; none to whom I would rather go in time of trouble; there is nothing I would not do for you, Mr. Lennox, except one...”