"Trouble that I cannot soothe?"
"I am afraid not."
"And you won't tell me?"
"Not to-day."
"Then you don't love me."
Greenleaf was silent; his lips showing the emotion he strove to control. Her voice took a more cheerful tone, as if she would assure herself, and, with a faint smile, she said,—
"You are silent; but I am only childish. You do love me,—don't you,
George?"
"As much as I ever did."
A mean subterfuge; for though it was true, perhaps, to him, he knew it was a falsehood to her. She attempted to rise from her chair; he sprang to support her.
"You are so gloomy, reserved, to-day!" she continued.