"'Ill!' I exclaimed. 'And I not with you! I had then good reason to be anxious about you.'
"'It wasn't much,' she returned. 'And you came here often?'
"'Every day—and waited and waited!'
"'Thank you,' she said in a low voice, and held out her hand once more to me.
"As we stood there silent, looking at each other and finding no word to say, we all at once became clearly conscious of our love for each other. We both trembled.
"'I must go,' she said at length, withdrawing her hand from mine. 'My mother will be anxious—good-by.'
"'Till to-morrow,' I answered. 'You will come?'
"'I will come,' she said in a low voice....
"I had not long to wait for her on the following day: she was very punctual.
"I went to meet her shyly, and rather ill at ease,—not joyously, as on the previous day.