I was lost, if any one had taken advantage of it. But gradually
I regained my senses: one after another they each took up their guard
again: and I looked up. And met his eyes? No; but let mine rest upon his
face. And then I found I had not measured my temptation, and that there
was something to do besides defending myself from others' eyes. For
there was to defend myself from my own heart. The passion of pity and
tenderness that rushed over me as my eyes fell on his haggard face, so
strong and yet so wan, swept away for the moment the defences against
the public gaze. I could have fallen down at his feet before them all
and told him that I loved him.

A few moments more of the sound of commonplace words, and the repulsion
of every-day faces and expressions, swept me back into the circle of
conventionalities, and brought me under the force of that current that
keeps us from high tragedy.

All during the meal Mr. Langenau was grave and silent, speaking little
and then with effort. He had overrated his strength, perhaps, for he
went away before the end of the dinner, asking to be excused, in a tone
almost inaudible. After he had gone, a good many commentaries were
offered. Kilian seemed to express the sense of the assembly when he
said: "The man looks shockingly, and he's not out of the woods yet."

Sophie looked troubled: she had some compunctions for the neglect of the
last few days, perhaps.

"What does the Doctor say?" pursued her brother.

"Nothing, I suppose--for he hasn't been here for a week, almost."

"Well, then, you'd better send for him, if you don't want the fellow to
die on your hands. He's not fit to be out of bed, and you'll have
trouble if you don't look out."

"As if I hadn't had trouble," returned his sister, almost peevishly.

"Well, I beg your pardon, Sophie. But I fancied you and Miss Charlotte
were in charge; and I thought about ten days ago, your patient was in a
fair way to be killed with kindness, and it's a little of a surprise to
me to find he's being let alone so very systematically."

"Why, to tell you the truth," cried Charlotte Benson, "we were turned
out of office without much ceremony, one fine day after dinner. I am
quite willing to be forgiving; but I don't think you can ask me to put
myself in the way of being snubbed again to that extent."

"The ungrateful varlet! what did he complain of? Hadn't he been coddled
enough to please him? Did he want four or five more women dancing