He was still holding my hands in his strong clasp, and they felt so wonderfully at home there that I never thought to move them—if I had never known that other man I should have loved him so!
"Ann, is it Chalmers?"
The question was frankly put, and as frankly answered.
"Yes.—But there is nothing yet—nothing has been said—still, I know—"
"Ah, I was afraid of that! That was what overpowered my determination not to speak of my love until I came back from Europe! I noticed something that first time I met him—then the Gordons told me of his attentions to you."
"Yes," I said. "But he has never told me that he cares."
"He will. And I congratulate him."
Alfred arose, as he spoke, and I laid my hand on his arm.
"This is not going to make any difference between us?" I asked appealingly. I felt that I could not lose my friend.
"Not in my feeling for you," he answered, looking down at me with a look that I hated to see in his brown eyes—they usually met the world with such a level, untroubled glance. "If you should ever change, or ever need me—you know that I will be there. But, dear, it will be painful to go on meeting you. I'm going away in a few weeks, perhaps, but until then—"