“But not in yours? Ah, thank you for that much, at least. You acknowledge me as a friend?”
“Why, I suppose—since you declare yourself so, I must needs believe you. Heaven knows, I have felt some want of a friend, having none in this house. Were it otherwise, were this place my aunt’s, perhaps I should not have stayed a moment to hear you.”
“I must bless my fortune, then, that this house is not your aunt’s. I can even be glad you are not among friends here, since that leaves room in your heart for me. And yet I could slay any who were lacking in the friendship you had a right to expect of them. How can they be so, to you?”
His gaze had so much ardour that her own eyes softened in it, and the consequence of that melting was that he swiftly folded her in his arms and pressed a kiss obliquely upon her lips.
“Now I must go,” she whispered, after a moment, gently pushing him away.
“Now less than ever, sweet,” he replied, still clasping her.
“Oh, but I must—sure I beg—Prudence will be looking for me.”
Her insistence of manner was such that he dared not hold her longer without feeling guilty of violence. But he still retained her hand, to say:
“And when will you be here again?”
“I know not,” she answered, hurriedly. “How can I say?”