"I cannot believe in my bliss," he murmured. "You stand there in your white robes so chaste and grave, with that holy light in your eyes, more like a martyr awaiting death than a loving woman ready to break through all barriers to----"
There was something in this description of the situation that offended her,--offended her so deeply that with what was almost harshness she interrupted him, saying, "And now, I pray you, go!"
He looked at her in some dismay. She cast down her eyes, and with flaming cheeks stammered, "My grandmother will return in a few moments: I should not like to see you in her presence."
"You are right," he said, changing colour. "Your grandmother has always been so kind to me, and now----"
"Ah, go!"
"May I not come to see you at some time during the day to-morrow?"
"No."
"In the evening, then,--at eight?"
She looked him full in the face, stern resolve in her eyes. "I shall be punctual," she said.
"To-morrow at eight," he whispered.