Wrung as she had been, for weeks, with conflicting emotions, the revulsion of feeling that now came over her was too great for her strength. Her knees tottered beneath her; the room swam before her eyes.
“Somehow I feel a little tired,” said she; and she sank down upon a sofa which stood near.
Where was all her tact gone? Was she not to unveil his heart while hiding her own?
All is fair in love and war; and in both the best-laid schemes are undone by a surprise. The enemy had found the citadel unguarded and rushed in.
“Will you allow me?” said he.
She made no reply beyond a faint smile, and he took his seat beside her.
“You spoke of music just now. Lucy has a charming touch; but I know a voice that is, to me at least, richer than all the harmonies of a symphony, softer than an Æolian harp, gentler than the cooing of a dove.”
She made a brave effort to look unconscious. “Oh, how beautiful it must be! How I should like to hear such a voice!”
“I hear it now! I am drinking it in!”
It was a draught which seemed to intoxicate him; and the circle of the spell which bound them grew narrower. She could feel his eager, frequent breath upon her cheek, whose burning glow lent a more liquid lustre to her dark eyes. They spoke little. What need of multiplying words? Did they not know all? Ah, supremest moment of our lives, and restfullest, when two souls rush together, at last, and are one!