He looked up; he took her hand.

She bent over him, and touched his forehead with her lips.

"Am I forgiven ?" she asked.
"Oh, my darling," he said, "if you only knew how I loved you!" "I do know it," she answered, gently, twining his hair round her finger, and arranging it over his forehead where his hand had ruffled it.
They were completely absorbed in each other, or they must, at that moment, have heard the library door open at the other end of the room.
Lady Janet had written the necessary reply to her nephew, and had returned, faithful to her engagement, to plead the cause of Horace.

The first object that met her view was her client pleading, with conspicuous success, for himself! "I am not wanted, evidently," thought the old lady.

She noiselessly closed the door again and left the lovers by themselves.
Horace returned, with unwise persistency, to the question of the deferred marriage.