For a moment she was abashed at the gaze, and coloured deeply, whilst her eye-lids drooped over the eyes he sought.

Was there ever a woman who was not flattered and excited by such a look?
'Miss Gwynne,' at last said Rowland tremulously, 'if in any way I can have served and pleased you I am happy.

For this, in part, I have laboured, and still would labour.

You do not, you cannot know how I have loved you all my life.' Poor Rowland almost whispered these few words, and as he did so, wished he could recall them, but now the deed was done, and she knew the secret of his childhood, boyhood, and manhood.

He said no more, but stood looking down upon her with his heart beating as it had never beaten before.
Higher and higher rose the colour on her cheek.