k. She did not
reveal herself to him as she had once done. There is a stage of love in
which frankness is at once unnatural and impossible, and she had reached
this stage. Even her letters to Priscilla were not frank after his
reappearance.

Since the night of their interview after their return from the theatre,
he had not referred openly to his reasons for remaining. He had held
himself to the letter of his bond so far, at least, though he was often
sorely tempted. He visited Lady Throckmorton and Theo as he had visited
them in London, and was their attendant cavalier upon most occasions,
but beyond that he rarely transgressed. It was by no means a pleasant
position for a man in love to occupy. The whole world was between him
and his love, it seemed. The most infatuated of Theodora North's adorers
did not fear him, handsome and popular as he was, dangerous rival as he
might have appeared. Lady Throckmorton's world knew the history of their
favorite, having learned it as society invariably learns such things.
Most of them knew that his fate had been decided for years; all of them
knew that his stay in Paris could not be a long one. A man whose
marriage is to be celebrated in June has not many months to lose between
February and May.

But this did not add to the comfort of Denis Oglethorpe. The rest of
Theo's admirers had a right to speak--he must be silent. The shallowest
of them might ask a hearing--he dared not for his dishonored honor's
sake. So even while nearest to her he stood afar off, as it were a
witness to the innocent triumph of a girlish popularity that galled him
intolerably. He puzzled her often in these days, and out of her
bewilderment grew a vague unhappiness.

And yet, in spite of this, her life grew perilously sweet at times. Only
a few months ago she had dreamed of such bliss as Jane Eyre's and
Zulick's, wonderingly; but there were brief moments now and then when
she believed in it faithfully. She was very unselfish in her girlish
passion. She thought of nothing but the wondrous happiness love could
bring to her. She would have given up all her new luxuries and triumphs
for Denis Oglethorpe's sake. She would have gone back to Downport with
him, to the old life; to the mending, and bread-and-butter cutting, and
shabby dresses; she would have taken it all up again cheerfully, without
thinking for one moment that she had made a sacrifice. Downport would
have been a paradise with him. She was wonderfu