sat bolt upright.

"_Who?_"

"A gentleman--said you don't know his name. Shall I show him in?"

She managed to nod; her heart was beating so violently that she pressed
her hand over it.

He saw her sitting that way when he entered.

She did not rise; pain and happiness, mingled, confusing her for a
moment; and he was already seated near her, looking at her with an
intentness almost expressionless.

"You see," he said, "what the honour of a gambler is worth. I have lied
to you twice already."

His words brought her to her senses. She rose with an effort and, as he
stood up, she gave him her hand.

"Don't think me rude," she said. "I was resting--not expecting you--and
the lamp and--your coming--confused me."

"You were not expecting me," he said, retaining her hand an instant. Then
she withdrew it; they seated themselves.

"I don't know," she said, "perhaps I was expecting you--and didn't
realise it."

"Had you thought--much about it?"

"Yes," she said.

Then it seemed as though something sealed her lips, and that nothing
could ever again unseal them. All that she had to say to him vanished
from her mind; she could not recall a single phrase she had prepared to
lead up to all she must somehow say to him.

He talked quietly to her for a while about nothing in particular. Once
she saw him turn and look around the room; and a moment afterward he
spoke of the old-time charm of the place and the pretty setting such a
room made for the old-fashioned flowers.

He spoke about gardens as though he had known many; he spoke of trees and
of land and of stock; and, as he spoke in his pleasant, grave young
voice, he noticed the portraits on the wall; and he spoke of pictures as
though he had known many, and he spoke of foreign cities, and of
old-world scenes. And she listened in silence and in such content that
the happiness of it seemed to invade her utterly and leave her physically
numb.

From time to time his dark eyes wandered from her to the objects in the
room; they rested for a moment on the centre-table with its Book,
lingered, passed on. For a little while he did not look at her--as though
first it were necessary to come to a conclusion. Whatever the conclusion
might have been, it seemed to make his eyes and mouth alternately grave
and amused--but only very faintly amused--as though the subject he was
considering held him closely attentive.

And at last he looked up at her, gently, not all the curiosit