"I suppose you live all alone here?" asked Maryllia, suddenly.
"Yes. Quite alone."
"And are you happy?"
"I am content."
"I understand!" and she looked at him somewhat earnestly:—"'Happy' is a word that should seldom be used I think. It is only at the rarest possible moments that one can feel real true happiness."
"You are too young to say that,"—he rejoined gently—"All your life is before you. The greater part of mine lies behind me." Again she glanced at him somewhat timidly.
"Mr. Walden"—she began—"I'm afraid—I suppose—I daresay you think—-"
John caught the appealing flash of the blue eyes, and wondering what she was going to say. She played with the spray of lilac he had given her, and for a moment seemed to have lost her self-possession.
"I am quite sure,"—she went on, hurriedly—"that you—I mean, I'm afraid you haven't a very good opinion of me because I don't go to church—-"
He looked at her, smiling a little.