"You must not, of course, tell any untruths.

I do not ask that, but I--oh, I sometimes wish they need not know that you came from here, as that would save all trouble, and 'Lina is so--so--" Mrs.Worthington did not finish the sentence, for Adah instantly silenced her by answering frankly: "I do not intend they shall know, not at present certainly." Adah retired early, as did both Mrs.Worthington and Densie, for all were unusually tired; only Hugh, as he supposed, was up, and he sat by the parlor fire where they had passed the evening.

He was very sorry Adah was going, but it was not so much of her he was thinking as of Alice.

Had she dreamed of his real feelings, she never would have done what she did, but she was wholly unconscious of it, and so, when, late that night, she returned to the parlor in quest of something she had left, and found him sitting there alone, she paused a moment on the threshold, wondering if she had better join him or go away.

His back was toward her, and he did not hear her light step, so intently was he gazing into the burning grate, and trying to frame the words he should say if ever he dared tell Alice Johnson of his love.
There was much girlish playfulness in Alice's nature, and sliding across the carpet, she clasped both her hands before his eyes, and exclaimed: "A penny for your thoughts." Hugh started as suddenly as if some apparition had appeared before him, and blushing guiltily, clasped and held upon his face the little soft, warm hands which did not tremble, but lay still beneath his own.