Valentine understood him; they talked easily, and without restraint.

He paid her no compliments, and she did not seem to expect any.

With other ladies, Ronald was always thinking, "What would they say if they knew of that fair young wife at Eastham ?" With Valentine no such idea haunted him--he had an instinctive belief in her true and firm friendship.
Lady Earle overheard a few whispered comments, and they filled her heart with delight.

Old friends whispered to her that "it would be a splendid match for her son," and "how happy she would be with such a daughter-in-law as Miss Charteris, so beautiful and dignified;" and all this because Ronald wanted to secure Valentine's friendship, so that she might intercede for Dora.
When, for the fourth time, Ronald asked Miss Charteris "for the next dance," she looked up at him with a smile.
"Do you know how often we have danced together this evening ?" she asked.
"What does it matter ?" he replied, wondering at the flush that crimsoned her face.

"Forgive me, Miss Charteris, if I say that you realize my idea of the poetry of motion." "Is that why you ask me so frequently ?" she said, archly.
"Yes," replied honest Ronald; "it is a great pleasure; for one good dancer there are fifty bad ones." He did not quite understand the pretty, piqued expression of her face.
"You have not told me," said Valentine, "whether you like my flowers." "They are very beautiful," he replied; but the compliment of her selection was all lost upon him.
Miss Charteris did not know whether he was simply indifferent or timid.
"You told me these lilies were your favorite flowers," she said.
"Yes," replied Ronald; "but they are not the flowers that resemble you." He was thinking how much simple, loving Dora was like the pretty delicate little blossoms.