Had she not promised not to turn her back upon him, and help to drive him to despair by her coldness? Had he not come with news of Trevlyn and of home? And in that last eager thought all else was lost, and she met him gladly, almost eagerly.

[197]

[197]

He told her all she longed to know. He came primed with the latest news from Trevlyn. His manner was quiet and gentle. He was very cautious not to alarm or disturb her.

“I shall not be able to see much of you in the future, Monica,” he said, “but you will let me call myself still your friend?”

She bent her head in a sort of assent.

“And will you let me take a friend’s privilege, and ask one question. Are you happy in your new life?”

Monica’s face took a strange expression.

“It is very gay, very lively. I shall like it better as I get more used to it.”

“I see,” he answered, very gently, “I understand. And when are you going home again?”

[198]

[198]

“I am at home now,” she answered, steadily.

He looked searchingly at her.

“I thought Trevlyn was to be always home. Has he thrown off the mask so soon?”

“I think,” said Monica, with a little gleam in her eye, “that you forget you are speaking of my husband.”

Conrad’s eyes gleamed too; but she did not see it.

“Forgive me, Monica; I did forget. It is all so strange and sudden. Then he makes you happy? Tell me that! Let me have the assurance that at least he makes his captive happy.”

She started a little; but Conrad’s face expressed nothing but the quietest, sincerest good-will 

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