A man came rapidly along the street towards her, on the same side of the way. Just as she turned into Portland Place she came face to face with him. It was Gerald Rosenberg. His start of surprise was admirably done. As to Virgie, in the first moment, she was merely glad to see him—ready to take him into the joy that filled her, to share with him her glow of thankfulness and hope.
"Oh!" She stopped, giving him her hand, looking into his face with those eyes that had seemed to him so fathomless as to cause him to hesitate before letting his very being drown in their depths. Now it seemed that they were changed. The girl was, somehow, mysteriously a woman. She retained all her innocence, all her girlish candour, but there was something more, something heroic and splendid. At any rate, it appeared so to the man's enchanted gaze.
"This is indeed good fortune"—he hardly knew what he said. "I heard that you were in town, but hardly hoped—why did you not let Mims know of your being here?"
"Oh, that is easily answered. I have been devoted, body and soul, to my little sister. The first few nights I was in town I spent at the Home, for we did not even know that she would live. I have not had a moment for my friends."
"But she is better now?"
"Yes, thank God! I can hardly speak of it." The tears welled up and misted the changeful eyes. "It is so wonderful—so unspeakable—seeing her, as it were, coming back to me from the grave. If she had died, I can't think what I should have done."
"I remember Mims always said you were such a devoted sister."
Virgie laughed. "So would anybody be devoted to Pansy," she replied cheerfully. "But I am consumed with curiosity. You say that you had heard I was in London. Do tell me how you heard it."
His lip curled and his expression changed. "I heard it from the person most likely to know. Mr. Gaunt told me."
"Mr. Gaunt!" It was too sudden. Usually she had herself perfectly in hand, but the thought of the Ogre, intruding upon her moment of bliss, touched her inmost feeling, and she grew as white as a sheet. Gerald's eyes never left her face. He saw that pallor, saw the fugitive glance of panic that passed across the eyes like a cloud over the sun. It was so, then; it was as he had feared, as he had secretly known! She had been bought by that malevolent-looking man—the creature who had marked her down in the picture gallery, had pursued, hunted, caught, led captive! The feelings in the young man's heart were for a moment so violent that he could not speak.