It seemed to her while she was waiting for the carriage he had ordered that she was already half a wife.

She was not conscious of a blush.

The sprite in the young woman's mind whispered of fire not burning when one is in the heart of it.

And undoubtedly, contemplated from the outside, this room was the heart of fire.

An impulse to fall on Alvan's breast and bless him for his chivalrousness had to be kept under lest she should wreck the thing she praised.