In that moment she softened toward him, and in her soul quivered and stirred an intangible something that was like pain, that was too deep for her understanding.

But she felt sorry for an Isbel until the old pride resurged.

What if he admired her?
She remembered his interest, the wonder and admiration, the growing light in his eyes.

And it had not been repugnant to her until he disclosed his name.

"What's in a name ?" she mused, recalling poetry learned in her girlhood.