She was ready--she was eager--to be drawn into his arms.
But he did not so draw her.

To her amazement he only bowed himself before her and stretched forth the shield he bore that it might cover them both.
"It is Mr.Greatheart!" she said to herself in wonder.

"Of course--it is Mr.Greatheart!" And then, while she still gazed upon the glittering, princely form, he put up a hand and lifted the visor.

And she saw the kindly, steadfast eyes all kindled and alight with a glory before which instinctively she hid her own.

Never--no, never--had she dreamed before that any man could look at her so! It was not passion that those eyes held for her;--it was worship.
She stood with bated breath and throbbing heart, waiting, waiting, as one in the presence of a vision, who longs--yet fears--to look.