He put his arm round her and drew her to his side, while he bent and kissed her sweet red mouth.
She did not resist him or start away, but she grew white as death, and he was conscious that, as he clasped her close, a repressed shudder ran through her whole frame.
With a little cry of anguish he put her from him, and searched with miserable eyes for some message in her face.

But her lids were lowered and her lips were quivering with some pain.
"My darling, what is it?
Sabine, you shrank from me! What does it mean ?" "It means--nothing, Henry." And the poor child tried to smile.

"Only that I am very foolish and silly, and I do not believe I like caresses--much." And then, to make things sound more light, she went on: "You see, I have had so few of them in my life.

You must be patient with me until I learn to--understand." Of course he would be patient, he assured her, and asked her to forgive him if he had been brusque, his refined voice full of adoring contrition.

He caught at any gossamer thread to stifle the obvious thought that if she loved him even ever so little he would not have to accustom her to caresses; she would long ago have been willing to learn all of their meanings in his arms!--and this was only the second time during their acquaintance that she had even let him kiss her! But of her own free will she now came and leaned her head against his shoulder.
"Henry," she pleaded, "I am not really as I know you think I am--a gentle and loving woman.