Her hand still lay in his, for both had unconsciously retained their clasp after their first greeting, and he knew by her clinging fingers how sincere her sorrow and sympathy were.
"My darling, I know it; and your presence is inexpressibly comforting to me."
"My darling!"—he had said it without thinking.
During all the long weeks that they had been separated he had called her thus to himself, and now the word had slipped from him unawares, and he would have given worlds to have been able to recall them.
Violet's white lids fluttered and then drooped consciously, while a vivid flush arose to her brow.
This brought Wallace to his senses. He also colored hotly, and a feeling of dismay took possession of him. There was a dead silence for a moment; then he added, humbly:
"Forgive me; I did not know what I was saying."
He would have released her hand, but her small fingers closed more firmly over his; she shot one dazzling gleam of light up at him from her lovely eyes and whispered, shyly:
"I am glad!"
And he knew that she was all his own—that she loved him even as he loved her.