She looked wistfully at Vane.
'We know not what God may have in store for us yet,' said she, colouring while she spoke, but only with the desire to soothe and not ignore the passion he was avowing. 'It may be—may be that we have only in our hearts been waiting for each other after all.'
Ere Vane could make a response to this speech, which she felt conscious was a rash one, she shivered and grew deadly pale.
'Does the night air chill you, Ida?' he asked.
'I know not—surely no,' said she, in a strange voice: 'it is close, rather; and yet——'
'What, dear Ida?'
'I felt a strange shudder come over me as I spoke.'
'It is nervousness, and will soon pass away.'
For a moment she sat with her eyes dropped and her heart palpitating. Whence came that strange, cold, and irrepressible tremor, like the shock of an electric battery, yet so chilly? What could it be? Could she have an affection of the heart?
She started from her seat with manifest uneasiness, and taking his arm, said, 'Let us return to the rooms.'