Hope's eyes met his, and the color slowly died away from her cheeks.

He eagerly asked how it happened, and was confounded by hearing that he was the cause.
"How strange it is," said he, in a low voice, to Hope, as the people busied themselves in looking after the horses and carriage, and Gabriel talked to Mrs.Simcoe, with whom he found conversation so much easier than with Hope--"how strange it is that just as I was wondering when and where and how I should see you again, I should meet you in this way, Miss Wayne!" Pleased, still weak and trembling, pale and flushed by turns, Hope listened to him.
"Where _can_ I see you ?" he continued; "certainly your grandfather was unkind--" Hope shook her head slowly.

Abel watched every movement--every look--every fluctuating change of manner and color, as if he knew its most hidden meaning.
"I can see you nowhere but at home," she answered.
He did not reply.

She stood silent.

She wished he would speak.