"Was that the way I seemed? Truly, Euan? Were you jealous? And I scarce heeding one o' them, but my eyes on the doorway, watching for you!"
"Oh, Lois! How can you say that to me——"
"Because it was so! Why did you not come to me at once? I was waiting!"
"There were so many—and you seemed so gay with them—so careless—not even glancing at me——"
"I saw you none the less. I never let you escape the range of my vision."
"I never dreamed you noticed me. And every time you smiled on one of them I grew the gloomier——"
"And what does my gaiety mean—save that the source of happiness lies rooted in you? What do other men count, only that in their admiration I read some recompense for you, who made me admirable. These gowns I wear are yours—these shoon and buckles and silken stockings—these bows of lace and furbelows—this little patch making my rose cheeks rosier—this frost of powder on my hair! All these I wear, Euan, so that man's delight in me may do you honour. All I am to please them—my gaiety, my small wit, which makes for them crude verses, my modesty, my decorum, my mind and person, which seem not unacceptable to a respectable society—all these are but dormant qualities that you have awakened and inspired——"
She broke off short, tears filling her eyes:
"Of what am I made, then, if my first and dearest and deepest thought be not for you? And such a man as this is jealous!"
I caught her hands, but she bent swiftly and laid her hot cheek for an instant against my hand which held them.