But her broken voice stopped him.

"And I thought you loved me," she said.
"You know I do!" he cried.
She was silent.
"What is it, Madelene ?" he implored.

"What has come between us?
Does your father object because I am--am not well enough off ?" She dropped her hands from before her face and looked at him.

The first time he saw her he had thought she was severe; ever since he had wondered how he could have imagined severity into a countenance so gentle and sweet.

Now he knew that his first impression was not imaginary; for she had again the expression with which she had faced the hostile world of Saint X until he, his love, came into her life.