“Stephen! I didn’t know it was you.” She had sat for so long in the half-light, all alone; she was so glad to see him. It was as though he had known of her loneliness and her unhappiness, and had come because she needed him. She rose and went towards him with little, hurried steps, holding out her hands. “I’m so glad you’ve come!” she said, like a child, and with a tiny catch in her voice.

His hands came out to meet hers, and clasped them warmly together, and kept them so.

“Elizabeth! Why, you poor little thing, what’s the matter?”

He sounded so sympathetic and anxious, and so tenderly possessive that a rush of hot tears sprang to Elizabeth’s eyes and glittered on the end of her lashes. She tried to smile and to draw her hands away.

“N-nothing. I—I don’t know. I was lonely.”

It seemed an infamous thing that she should be lonely, or that anyone should, however indirectly, have caused those wonderful eyes to brim with tears. Stephen bent his head over the hands in his, and kissed them.

“Dear little Elizabeth!” he said. “What a damned shame!”

She was startled; he felt her pulses leap under his fingers, and looked up again, smiling.

“Don’t be so scared, dear! Come and tell me all about it.” He knew now that his mind was made up; he would not leave this room until he had told her how greatly he loved her; her tears and her helplessness had brought matters between them to a head.

Elizabeth knew also, blamed herself yet was glad. She let him put her back into her chair, and quivering watched him sit down on a low stool at her feet.

“There—there isn’t anything to tell. It was only being alone—and silly. I’m awfully sorry I was such an idiot.”

“You weren’t. You couldn’t be,” he said quietly.

“Oh, but I was! I was just being—morbid. It sounds frightfully stupid, because I never knew her, but I—I wanted my mother.”

His eyes darkened, and again he held her hands.

“Stupid? Did you think that I shouldn’t understand, Elizabeth?”

She was drawing back into her shell; she thought it could not have been herself who had made that confidence.

“I don’t see how you can. I don’t understand it myself. Please—please, will you let me go?”

“No. I want you to let me keep you and take care of you all your life, Elizabeth. I love you. Oh, my darling, you’re trembling! You’re not afraid of me—you couldn’t be!” He was on his feet now, and had pulled her up to stand before him. “Elizabeth, little wild bird! I love you so much!”