To these words he made no reply. His face grew a trifle set.
"Because," she went on, hesitatingly,—"because I feel almost sure—at least I'm afraid—"
"Well?" He spoke peremptorily.
"I'm nearly certain that you don't know surely that—that you've stopped loving Prudence."
He burst into a laugh; but he stopped laughing directly. He took her hand again. "Is that all?" he asked.
"Yes; I think that's all. And that's quite enough. You see, I was here when you were in love with her; I know something about how you loved her. You did love her. And you can't have forgotten it in less than two years. Why, I couldn't forget such an experience in a lifetime. It must have been like—like fire sweeping over your heart."
"But a man comes to his senses; a man gets over everything, you know. And I've had my lesson."
Lawrence was speaking eagerly now. His whole face began to glow.
"If you could only say yes to me, dear Caro!" he went on. "If you feel hopeful that you could learn to love me,—tell me, do you think you could learn?"
She smiled, and Lawrence asked himself why he had never before particularly noticed her smile.