She extended her hand for a parting salute. I took her fingers in mine, and respectfully kissed them. I saw the tears freshly filling in her eyes, as she turned away to conceal them.
I was convinced she was acting under constraint, and against her inclination, else I should not have been allowed to depart. Hers was not the spirit to fear gossip or scandal. Some other pressure was upon her.
I was passing out through the hall, my eyes eagerly turning in every direction. Where was she? Was I not to have even a parting word!
At that moment a side-door was gently opened. My heart beat wildly as it turned upon its hinge. Aurore!
I dare not trust myself to speak aloud. It would have been overheard in the drawing-room. A look, a whisper, a silent pressure of the hand, and I hurried away; but the return of that pressure, slight and almost imperceptible as it was, fired my veins with delight; and I walked on towards the gate with the proud step of a conqueror.
Chapter Twenty Two.
Aurore loves me.
“Aurore loves me!”