In his agitation, at this discovery of hers he again repeated her words.
"Why, you seem happier, you look happier. It isn't only that, I can't explain how you impress me. It struck me when you were talking to Mr. Bentley the other day. You seem to see something you didn't see when I first met you, that you didn't see the first time we were at Mr. Bentley's together. Your attitude is fixed—directed. You have made a decision of some sort—a momentous one, I rather think."
"Yes," he replied, "you are right. It's more than remarkable that you should have guessed it."
She remained silent
"I have decided," he found himself saying abruptly, "to continue in the
Church."
Still she was silent, until he wondered whether she would answer him. He had often speculated to himself how she would take this decision, but he could make no surmise from her expression as she stared off into the wood. Presently she turned her head, slowly, and looked into his face. Still she did not speak.
"You are wondering how I can do it," he said.
"Yes," she acknowledged, in a low voice.
"I should like you to know—that is why I spoke of it. You have never asked me, and I have never told you that the convictions I formerly held I lost. And with them, for a while, went everything. At least so I believed."
"I knew it," she answered, "I could see that, too."