convey to you the pride with which I hear you say that. Be assured
that I shall respect your confidences." She missed his next remark
because she was wondering whether she dare ask him to come to dinner
on the twenty-fifth, and then the ladies had to retire, and by the
time he rejoined her he was as tongue-tied as at the beginning. The
cork had not been extracted; it had been knocked into the bottle,
where it still often barred the way, and there was always, as we shall
see, a flavour of it in the wine.

"You will get over it yet; the summer and the flowers will come to you
again," she managed to whisper to him kind-heartedly, as she was
going.

"Thank you," he said, with that inscrutable face. It was far from his
design to play a part. He had, indeed, had no design at all, but an
opportunity for sentiment having presented itself, his mouth had
opened as at a cherry. He did not laugh afterwards, even when he
reflected how unexpectedly Felicity had come into his life; he thought
of her rather with affectionate regard, and pictured her as a tall,
slim girl in white. When he took a tall, slim girl in white in to
dinner, he could not help saying huskily:

"You remind me of one who was a very dear friend of mine. I was much
startled when you came into the room."

"You mean some one who is dead?" she asked in awe-struck tones.

"Fever," he said.

"You think I am like her in appearance?"