What volumes the words implied! They proved how his nature had broadened. Instead of thinking of his own happiness, he thought first of Augustus. To be sure he was his child, but the time had been when even his own child would not have come first. Not that he loved her less, for he loved her more, but he was beginning to learn what love really was. The boy did not stir as his mother kissed him, and Clarissa said, "Why is not Augustus in bed?"
"He went," said William, "then came back to comfort me, I think, although he did not say so."
As he said this, he looked up at her with a pleasant smile, and she seemed to recognize its significance, for she bent over and, kissing him, placed her arms above Augustus' around his neck.
A bright flush mounted to William's cheek as he drew her still closer to him; his eyes sought hers eagerly, but hers sank before him. He held the boy nearer and nearer, with a long drawn sigh that made Clarissa sad, and she said quickly:
"William, do you doubt my love?"
No answer.
"William, tell me;—do you doubt my love?"
There was no response in words, but his arms held her a little closer. The power of speech seemed to have left him. Again she asked, "William,—you know I love you?"
After a pause he spoke.