Professor Desha did indeed look pale and heavy-eyed, and his voice sounded strange as he answered:
“I am sorry you noticed it; but—I am not feeling very well. I had a bad night; was restless, and scarcely slept at all.”
His grave blue eyes searched her face closely, plaintively, as if some jealous doubt haunted his mind; but the perfect tenderness and joy of her manner were enough to dissipate any fears, and presently she charmed him from the gray mood in which he had entered her presence.
Her gayety cost her an effort, too, for she was secretly frightened when she saw what a shadow lurked in his grave blue eyes. She was a coward at heart, always dreading for him to find out something she feared for him to know.
Had she guessed what was in his thoughts, as he sat so quietly by her side, she must have fallen down fainting at his feet in her remorse and shame.
Ruby Wellford had played a clever card in her longing to defeat Viola, and a thorn was planted in his manly heart that would ache there many a day.
But he had not showed his cousin the pain he had felt, he had simply answered:
“I am sorry for the poor young man. I dare say that Viola was more thoughtless than wilfully wicked. She is so young, you know, and has missed a mother’s care.”
“Philip, you do not mean that you will go on dangling after the girl after hearing this—this appalling story!” she cried, almost indignantly.
Then he took her hand and said, very gently and kindly: