She made no reply.

The colour came and went on her face; her eyes were turned away from him.

'Have I been so unhappy as to offend you ?' he asked.
She answered that--she said, almost in a whisper, 'No.' 'Have I distressed you ?' 'You have made me think of the sad days that are gone.' She said no more; she only tried to withdraw her hand from his for the second time.
He still held it; he lifted it to his lips.
'Can I never make you think of other days than those--of the happier days to come?
Or, if you must think of the time that is passed, can you not look back to the time when I first loved you ?' She sighed as he put the question.

'Spare me, Henry,' she answered sadly.

'Say no more!' The colour again rose in her cheeks; her hand trembled in his.