"A thoroughly manly man!"
"And perhaps," she continued—"it would be pleasant for you, David, to have a chat with him now and then especially in the long winter evenings—wouldn't it?"
She had moved to his side, and now stood looking down upon him with such a wistful sweetness of expression, that he was content to merely watch her, without answering her question.
"Because those long winter evenings are sometimes very dull, you know!" she went on—"And I'm afraid I'm not very good company when I'm at work mending the lace—I have to take all my stitches so carefully that I dare not talk much lest I make a false knot."
He smiled.
"You make a false knot!" he said—"You couldn't do it, if you tried! You'll never make a false knot—never!"—and his voice sank to an almost inaudible murmur—"Neither in your lace nor in your life!"
She looked at him a little anxiously.
"Are you tired, David?"
"No, my dear! Not tired—only thinking!"
"Well, you mustn't think too much,"—she said—"Thinking is weary work, sometimes!"