They had left Franklin under the limes with Helen; he had been reading something to Helen out of a pamphlet, and Helen had looked, though rather sleepy, kindly acquiescent; but the memory of the past could do no more than stir a faint pity for the present Franklin; she was wishing--and it seemed the most irresistible longing of all her life--that Gerald Digby wanted to kiss her too.

The memory and the wish threw her thoughts into confusion, but she was still able to maintain her calm, to smile at him and say, 'Certainly, let us talk.' 'But not about politics and philanthropy to-day,' said Gerald, who leaned his elbow on his knee and looked quietly yet intently at her; 'I want to talk about ourselves, if I may.' 'Do let us talk about ourselves,' said Althea.
'Well, I don't believe that what I'm going to say will surprise you.

I'm sure you've seen how much I've come to care about you,' said Gerald.
Althea kept her eyes fixed calmly upon him; her self-command was great, even in the midst of an overpowering hope.
'I know that we are real friends,' she returned, smiling.
Her calm, her cool, sweet smile, like the light in the shaded room, were very pleasing to Gerald.

'Ah, yes, but that was only a step, you see,' he smiled back.

He did not let her guess his full confidence, he took all the steps one after the other in their proper order.