“No, not as bad as that,” she answered hastily, in the first impulse of fear that she had unwarrantably excited his sympathy. “Nor is it anything connected with property,” she hastily added, as she saw the Doctor looked inquiringly, but as though fearing that further questioning might be an indelicate intrusion.
She picked nervously at the engagement ring which Harry had placed upon her finger. It fitted closely, and resisted her efforts at removal. She felt, when it was too late, that neither this nor its significance had escaped Dr. Denslow's eyes.
“A f-riend—an—acquaintance of mine has disgraced himself,” she said, with a very apparent effort.
An ordinary woman would have broken down in a tearful tempest, but as has been said before she was denied that sweet relief which most women find in a readily responsive gush of tears. Her eyes became very dry and exceedingly hot. Her misery was evident.
The Doctor took her hand with a movement of involuntary sympathy. “I am deeply hurt to see you grieve,” he said, “and I wish that I might say something to alleviate your troubles. Is it anything that you can tell me about?”
“No, it is nothing of which I can say a word to any one,” she answered. “It is a trouble that I can share with no one, and least of all with a stranger.”
“Am I not more than a stranger to you?” he asked.
“O yes, indeed,” she said, and hastening to correct her former coldness, added:
“You are a very dear, good friend, whom I value much more highly than I have given you reason to think.”
His face brightened wonderfully, but he adventured his way slowly. “I am very glad that you esteem me what I have tried to show myself during our acquaintance.”