And the young girl burst into another fit of laughter, and positively shook with merriment.
"Did you become well acquainted with him?" she asked, after a pause; "Charles is not stiff—too free and easy, I fear, and I am sure you—liked him."
"Indeed, I did," said Mowbray; "he was a great consolation to me, and I always thought there was something strangely familiar in his face. Singular that I never observed how closely he resembled you."
"That was because you did not think of me very frequently."
Mowbray colored.
"I thought of you too often, I fear," he said in a low tone.
"And never came to see me—that is a probable tale," she said, coloring also, and glancing with a mixture of mirth and timidity at him.
Their eyes met;—those eloquent pleaders said much in that second.
"I have suffered much," he said; "my heart is not very strong—I was deceived—I could not——"
And Mowbray would have said something still more significant of his feelings, but for his companion's presence of mind. She observed, with womanly tact, that a number of eyes were fixed upon them, and adroitly diverted the conversation from the dangerous direction it was taking.