Her words were tremulous, and Valdis saw tears in her eyes. They had wandered on unconsciously, and were close to the pier, which was deserted save for the weather-beaten old mariner, who sat in his little box at the entrance waiting for the pennies that were rather slow in coming in at that particular time of year. Valdis passed himself and his companion through the turn-stile, and they walked side by side on towards the solemn shadows of the murmuring sea.
'Now that we have a few minutes together, you can surely tell me what it is that has gone wrong with you, Lady Carlyon,' he said, his rich voice softening to a great tenderness. 'I am your friend, as you know. I imagined that your displeasure at that paragraph in Honesty would have been very great, and justly so; but I begin to fear it is something more serious that makes you seem so unlike yourself—'
She interrupted him by a light touch on his arm.
'Is that true? Do you find me changed?'
And she raised her eyes trustingly to his. He met that confiding look for a moment, then turned away lest the deep love of his soul should be betrayed.
'You are not changed in appearance—no!' he said slowly, 'You are always lovely. But there is a great sadness in your face. I cannot help seeing that.'
She laughed a little, then sighed.
'I should have made a very bad actress,' she said; 'I cannot put a complete disguise on my thoughts. You are right; I am sad; as sad as any woman can be in the world. I have lost my husband's love.'
He started.
'You have heard all, then;—you know?'