Those wonderful eyes of hers were full upon him; there was emotion in them,--evidently the Nuneham scene was in her mind, as it was in his,--and a great friendliness, even gratitude, seemed to look out through them.

But it was as though his doom were written in the very candour and openness of her gaze, and he rushed desperately into speech again, hardly knowing what he was saying.
'It gives me half pain, half pleasure, that you should speak of it so.

I have never ceased to hate myself for that day.

But you have travelled far indeed since the _White Lady_--I never knew any one do so much in so short a time!' She smiled--did her lip quiver?
Evidently his praise was very pleasant to her, and there must have been something strange and stirring to her feeling in the intensity and intimacy of his tone.

Her bright look caught his again, and he believed for one wild moment that the eyelids sank and fluttered.