"Thirza," he cried, "do not run away from me until you have heard what I have to say. Let me look in your face, and see if I can find what I thought I saw there when we parted that evening, more than a year ago."
He drew her toward him, and compelled her to meet his gaze. She tried to meet it with coldness and scorn; but she was weak and unnerved, and there was such pleading tenderness in his voice! She trembled, and sought feebly to withdraw her hand.
"Thirza, won't you listen? I love you! I have loved you so long—I never knew it until you went away; I never knew how much until I saw you to-day. I did not even know you had returned. Oh, Thirza, I could not have spoken a word to you before those people for worlds; but how I longed to snatch you up in my arms! If you had only looked at me, proud little statue in a gray dress!"
He compelled her to turn her face toward him.
"Thirza, was I mistaken? No, I was not!" and his voice was full of exultation. "I see the same look in your eyes again. You love me, my darling! There!" he cried, releasing her hands, "proud, cruel little woman, go! Leave me! Run away from me! I do not keep you; but, Thirza, you are mine, for all that!"
Hardly conscious of herself, Thirza stood before him, making no use of her liberty.
"Come, Thirza," said the shaking, passionate voice, "leave all the work and all the worry—your own words, darling; how often I have thought of them! Leave it all behind, and come here, to me!"
The clouds had parted, and the stars flamed out, one after another; and, as they were going home together through the starlight, the young man said:
"And did you live the 'real life' you anticipated, Thirza?"