She rose and answered his smile, and laid her hand in his.

They looked in each other's eyes; and Lawrence Newt saw in Hope Wayne's the beauty of a girl that long ago, as a boy, he had loved; and in his own, Hope felt that tenderness which had made her mother's happiness.
It was but a moment.

It was but a word.

For the first time he said, "Hope." And for the first time she answered, "Lawrence." Amy Waring heard them.

The two words seemed sharp: they pierced her heart, and she felt faint.