Why could she not make opportunities of speaking freely with him, alone with him?
They were less near to each other, it seemed, after a year of constant meeting, than in the times when, personally all but strangers, they had corresponded so frankly and unconventionally.

Of course he came to the house for her sake; it could not but be so; yet at times he seemed to pay so little attention to her.

Her mother often monopolised him through a whole evening, and not apparently to his annoyance.

And all the time he had in his heart the message for which she longed; support and comfort were waiting for her there, she felt sure, could he but speak unrestrainedly.

In herself was no salvation; but he had already overcome, and why could she not ask him for the secret of his confidence?
Often, as the evening drew to an end, and he was preparing to leave, an impatience scarcely to be repressed took hold upon her; her face grew hot, her hands trembled, she would have followed him from the room and begged for one word to herself had it been possible.