"Were there many visitors at the gallery?" she asked.
"About the same as usual."
"Any that you particularly noticed?" she went on. "I mean, among the ladies."He laughed uneasily. "You forget how interested I am in the pictures," he said.
There was a pause. She looked up at him--and suddenly looked away again. But he saw it plainly: there were tears in her eyes.
"Do you mind turning down the gas?" she said. "My eyes have been weak all day."He complied with her request--the more readily, having his own reasons for being glad to escape the glaring scrutiny of the light.
"I think I will rest a little on the sofa," she resumed. In the position which he occupied, his back would have been now turned on her. She stopped him when he tried to move his chair. "I would rather not look at you, Ernest," she said, "when you have lost confidence in me."Not the words, but the tone, touched all that was generous and noble in his nature. He left his place, and knelt beside her--and opened to her his whole heart.
"Am I not unworthy of you?" he asked, when it was over.
She pressed his hand in silence.
