"Hugh has been asking for you continually, Miss Santoine. If you can find time, please go in and see him."
Harriet did not know what answer she made. She went upstairs: she ran, as soon as she was out of sight of Hugh's sister; then, at Hugh's door, she had to halt to catch her breath and compose herself before she opened the door and looked in upon him. He was alone and seemed asleep; at least his eyes were closed. Harriet stood an instant gazing at him.
His face was peaceful now but worn and his paleness was more evident than when he had been talking to her father. As she stood watching him, she felt her blood coursing through her as never before and warming her face and her fingertips; and fear—fear of him or of herself, fear of anything at all in the world—fled from her; and love—love which she knew that she need no longer try to deny—possessed her.
"Harriet!" She heard her name from his lips and she saw, as he opened his eyes and turned to her, there was no surprise in his look; if he had been sleeping, he had been dreaming she was there; if awake, he had been thinking of her.
"What is it, Hugh?" She was beside him and he was looking up into her eyes.
"You meant it, then?"
"Meant it, Hugh?"
"All you said and—and all you did when we—you and I—were alone against them all! It's so, Harriet! You meant it!"
"And you did too! Dear, it was only to me that you could come back—only to me?"
"Only to you!" He closed his eyes in his exaltation. "Oh, my dear, I never dreamed—Harriet in all the days and nights I've had to plan and wonder what might be for me if everything could come all right, I've never dreamed I could win a reward like this."