He seemed to know that the crisis was passed, for he breathed more freely, looked at her, and removed his hand from the chair.
“These toys are very beautiful. I really feel unable to express my gratitude to you.”
“You owe me no thanks. My gratitude is due to you for allowing your sweet little girl to come and see me.”
“Mrs. Parrot tells me you are very fond of children?”
“Very. I hope little Nelly will often be here. I am quite alone, and she cheers me with her pretty prattle.”
She glanced at him quickly and sympathetically, as he said he was alone, and sighed.
Holdsworth noticed that her dress was very shabby; but her beauty lost nothing by her apparel. He thought her looking sweeter than when he had left her five years before. Her riper charms were made touching by an under colouring of sadness, and there was languor in her movements and speech—sign of heart-weariness.
“It is time for us to get home, Nelly,” she said, looking uneasily towards the window. “Go and give Mr. Hampden a kiss, and thank him prettily for his beautiful presents.”
The child approached Holdsworth, who kissed her gently, repressing the passionate emotion that, had he been alone, would have prompted him to raise her in his arms and press her to his breast.
“Here are some little cakes,” he said, taking the parcel Mrs. Parrot had prepared, and giving them to the child, but addressing Dolly, “which will amuse her to play with. When may she come again, Mrs. Conway?”