“Kind?” I said stupidly. “Yes, but that’s not the right word”; and then, forgetting all about putting questions to her concerning Three Rivers, I blurted out, to my own surprise, “Ellen, why did you blush when your aunt asked you, at the Château, if you liked Nathaniel?”

She blushed again. “Did I? It may be. I think perhaps my aunt was teasing, because she knew I liked Nathaniel, but liked you better. Or no—I’m not sure she was teasing: perhaps she wanted you to think I liked Nathaniel, so that you’d stay away from me. I think she understands that you have a dislike for her, just as well as she understands that I haven’t one for you.”

“You think she wanted to keep me away from you—and from her, too, perhaps?”

“I think it might be,” Ellen said gravely. “I think perhaps she’s right. And this has something to do with what I’ve just told you I’ve been thinking. You’ve said you had kind thoughts of me. That means you like me, doesn’t it?”

“Like—like you?” I was caught aback by her question. Out of the ocean of affection that struggled for utterance within me I was able to bring only one other word, “Yes!”

She nodded. “Yes, I was almost sure your thoughts of me were kind. Now I wish to tell you something else. The first time you came to the Château de St. Auge and sat beside me on the floor to speak about your sister, I noticed you thought about other things beside yourself. You thought about your brother, and about me. The questions you asked—they touched me. I thought for a time you wished to make talk; but no! For my sake, you wished to hear about my brother—about my mother. You were eager, even, to know about them. I found this very unusual—and pleasant to think about afterward. It set me to thinking about you; and I’ve thought about you often ever since. You see, I’m trying to make you understand something.”

“Yes,” I said, my heart quickening. “Yes, I want to understand.”

She frowned, and her earnestness increased.

“Well, then; I must tell you one thing more before I come to the point. I am very slow-minded. At first when a thing is said or something happens, I seldom seem to understand it; but after a little while, if I do think hard, then it seems to me that I do understand it. Something like that has been happening now. I have been thinking over many things you have said, and I’m afraid I’m beginning to understand them.”

“Afraid? Afraid you’ll understand what?”