Gladys was standing in the full glare of the fire, as if its cheerful magic could exorcise all dark fancies. Helwyze eyed the white figure for an instant, feeling that his lonely hearthstone had acquired a new charm; then joined her, saying quietly,—
“This is the place where Felix and I have lived together for nearly two years. Do you like it?”
“More than I can tell. It does not seem strange to me, for he has often described it; and when I thought of coming here, I was more curious to see this room than any other.”
“It will be all the pleasanter henceforth if Felix can spare you to me sometimes. Come and see the corner I have prepared, hoping to tempt you here when he shuts us out. It used to be his; so you will like it, I think.” Helwyze paced slowly down the long room, Gladys beside him, saying, as she looked about her hungrily,—
“So many books! and doubtless you have read them all?”
“Not quite; but you may, if you will. See, here is your place; come often, and be sure you never will disturb me.”
But one book lay on the little table, and its white cover, silver lettered, shone against the dark cloth so invitingly that Gladys took it up, glowing with pleasure as she read her own name upon the volume she knew and loved so well.
“For me? you knew that nothing else would be so beautiful and precious. Sir, why are you so generous?”
“It amuses me to do these little things, and you must humor me, as Felix does. You shall pay for them in your own coin, so there need be no sense of obligation. Rest satisfied I shall get the best of the bargain.” Before she could reply a servant appeared, announced dinner, and vanished as noiselessly as he came.
“This has been a bachelor establishment so long that we are grown careless. If you will pardon all deficiencies of costume, we will not delay installing Madame Canaris in the place she does us the honor to fill.”