So sped the days Earle spent at the De Lacys', the mistress of the house fondly imagining that he was bent on doing her portrait the fullest justice. At last Earle could not pretend that Mrs De Lacy's portrait required many more touches. One day he said sadly enough, as he and Silvia were alone together: 'It's no use; this must come to an end. I can't keep up the delusion that I want more sittings; so I must bring to a close the happiest hours I ever spent in my life.'
'I am going home to-morrow,' Silvia observed, with her eyes down.
'Going home! are you? And you said I might call; do you remember? Will you ask me again?'
'To be sure you may come; why not?' Miss Stirling answered.
'I will try and look forward to that then, for I do feel dreadfully down in the mouth, I confess, at having come to the last of these pleasant hours—pleasant to me, I mean. I can't hope you have found so much to enjoy in them.'
'O yes,' said Silvia, speaking with frank friendliness; 'we have had a great deal of very interesting talk—when poor Mrs De Lacy was out of the room,' she added with a mischievous smile.
'It is like you and no other woman I ever knew to say so!' he said warmly. 'I want to ask you—I know you will tell me exactly the truth—do you feel now as if I could be a friend of yours?'
'If you care to have a friend in a woman who acts constantly in opposition to your cherished ideas.'
'I have altered many of my ideas since I knew you,' Earle said gravely; 'many, but not all. Still you are better, even when you are doing what I disapprove, than any woman I ever knew.'