A tender light came to his eyes.

The expression on his face was unmistakable.
"Billy, do you mean, really, that there is--hope for me ?" he begged brokenly.
Billy gave a visible start.

A quick something like shocked terror came to her eyes.

She drew back and would have risen to her feet had the thought not come to her that twice before she had supposed a man was making love to her, when subsequent events proved that she had been mortifyingly mistaken: once when Cyril had told her of his love for Marie; and again when William had asked her to come back as a daughter to the house she had left desolate.
Telling herself sternly now not to be for the third time a "foolish little simpleton," she summoned all her wits, forced a cheery smile to her lips, and said: "Well, really, Mr.Arkwright, of course I can't answer for the girl, so I'm not the one to give hope; and--" "But you are the one," interrupted the man, passionately.

"You're the only one! As if from the very first I hadn't loved you, and--" "No, no, not that--not that! I'm mistaken! I'm not understanding what you mean," pleaded a horror-stricken voice.