Instantly he opened his arms and allowed her to go free, for Ralph Chainey was one of the proudest of men, and would not force his caresses on any one.
But he said eagerly, although with a slight tone of reproach in his voice:
"Kathleen, my dearest, how came you here, and why was it that I found you gone that night when I returned to the station?"
The color flushed hotly into her pale face, but she stood apart, looking at him with burning eyes, and not uttering one word.
"Kathleen, why do you look at me so strangely?" exclaimed her lover, in reproachful wonder. "Has your heart changed toward me? Did you repent your promise to marry me that night, and run away, or did your enemies find you, as you feared they would? Tell me the truth, my darling."
But still she did not speak. In truth, she could not. There was a hysteric constriction in her throat that held it tight as with iron bands. She gazed with unwilling fascination into the large, pleading, brown eyes of her lover, her young heart throbbing wildly in her breast.
"Kathleen, what have I done that you will not even speak to me?" he asked, piteously, and all her heart thrilled at the words; her will was hardly strong enough to restrain her from springing into his arms. His glance, deep, reproachful, loving, and magnetic, all in one, held her like a charm:
"It shot down her soul's deep heaven
Like a meteor trailing fire."
A long, long, troubled sigh breathed over the girl's sweet lips, and with a great effort of her will she drooped her eyelids so that they could not encounter his gaze.
"For I dare not, or—I should risk everything for his dear love," she thought, wildly.