He had not slept through thinking of the conversation in the balcony--it had made him profoundly wretched.

He would have given much not to renew it; but she had asked him to come, and he had promised.
Would she receive him with tears and reproaches?
Would she cry out that he was cold and cruel?
Would she torture himself and herself by trying to find out why he did not love her?
Or would she be sad, cold, and indifferent?
His relief was great when she raised a laughing, radiant face to his and held out her hand in greeting.
"Good-morning, Norman," she said, in a pleasant voice.

"Now confess that I am a clever actress, and that I have given you a real fright." He looked at her in wonder.
"I do not understand you," he returned.
"It is so easy to mislead a man," she said, laughingly.
"I do not understand, Philippa," he repeated.
"Did you really take all my pretty balcony scene in earnest last night ?" she asked.
"I did indeed," he replied; and again the clear musical laugh, seemed to astonish him.
"I could not have believed it, Norman," she said.

"Did you really think I was in earnest ?" "Certainly I did.

Were you not ?" "No," she answered.
"Then I thank Heaven for it," he said, "for I have been very unhappy about you.