"Why should we not, at least, be friends?"
Her lips moved again, but no words trembled on the air.
"Friends, that may meet now and then, and feel kindly one toward the other."
His voice was still event in tone—very even, but very distinct and impressive.
At first Irene's face had grown pale, but now a warm flush was pervading it.
"If you desire it, Hartley," she answered, in a voice that trembled in the beginning, but grew firm ere the sentence closed, "it is not for me to say, 'No.' As for kind feelings, they are yours always—always. The bitterness passed from my heart long ago."
"And from mine," said Mr. Emerson.
They were silent for a few moments, and each showed embarrassment.
"Nearly twenty years! That is a long, long time, Irene." His voice showed signs of weakness.
"Yes, it is a long time." It was a mere echo of his words, yet full of meaning.