Page:George Gibbs--Love of Monsieur.djvu/247

 gling or knitting of the brows or thinning of the lips could belie. Had she rightly read him? She could not forget that she had surprised him in his subterfuges, that, in spite of herself and him, she could not fear him. What if—? She dared not think. Was the love which this man’s eyes had spoken to her so great as this? Could it be that her fate was ever cruelly to misjudge him? Was there something finer in his life than she had ever known in another’s—something that she could not learn of or understand?

She trembled a little and drew the casement in. The lantern was flickering dimly, casting strange patches of shadow, which danced upon the beams and bulkhead. If monsieur loved her she would learn it from his own lips. If this were so, and she had not read him amiss, ’twas but a paltry excuse for a man of his birth and attainments to throw away his life at this wild calling, to the end that a silly person (who merited nothing) might continue to enjoy the benefits he could thus relinquish. He should not leave her again. At whatever cost he must return to London. The estates were his, and noth- 235