For one second she gazed at him with wide eyes and parted lips; then, with a half-stifled cry, she put out both hands as though to ward off a blow. Almost at the same moment she rose wildly to her feet. Carey rose, too, and caught her hands, with a startled, incredulous exclamation.
“Bridget!” he whispered hoarsely. “What do you mean? Say it,—say it!” he implored. His face was close to hers, his eyes blazing.
She cowered, and hesitated for one moment. Then she turned and faced him.
“Say your part first,” she said, looking at him with a long, steady gaze.
He drew himself up. “I love you!” he said. “And you?”
“I love you!” she repeated, in a low, vibrating voice. The color rushed into her face as she said the words.
Carey’s arms closed round her, and she lifted her lips to his. She freed herself presently. She was trembling from head to foot, but she smiled radiantly, meeting his eager eyes. At the sight of her face he groaned. “Bridget,” he began, “what have I done—?”
“You have dared to tell the truth. You have made me the happiest woman in the world!” she replied simply. “But why didn’t you tell me before? I—I believe I’ve got quite thin.” She pulled the sleeve of her dress away from her wrist, and held it out to him with a little laugh, which held tears.
He seized both her slender hands, and put them passionately to his lips.
“My love!—Bridget—I didn’t guess,” he began, incoherently. In the midst of her tremulous joy she was startled to see him so moved, so almost terribly shaken. His imperturbable coolness had been one of the qualities she had first noticed as peculiar to him; it had always filled her with something between admiration and amusement. His vehemence almost frightened her.