But it was the lightness only of a moment.

Her head turned, and she found again the eyes of that miniature looking into hers.

Questions then rushed to her lips--a chorus of children fretting with intense desire.

She could not hold them back--they would speak.

Each one held her heart in its hands.
"Why do you have that miniature--amongst all the other pictures ?" "That ?" He turned round, following her eyes, the boiling kettle steaming in his hands.