He spoke with much feeling. Anne looked at him. Then she rose, and with
quiet dignity gave him, as he rose also, her hand. He understood the
silent little action. "You have answered my expectation," he said, and
the subject was at an end forever.

After dinner, in the twilight, he spoke again. "You said, an hour or two
ago, that I had treated you as though you were a child. It is true; for
you were a child at Caryl's, and I remembered you as you were then. But
you are much changed; looking at you now, it is impossible that I should
ever think of you in the same way again."

She made no reply.

"Can you tell me nothing of yourself, of your personal life since we
parted? Your engagement, for instance?"

"It is ended. Mr. Pronando is married; he married my sister. You did not
see the notice?" (Anne's thoughts were back in the West Virginia
farm-house now with the folded slip of newspaper.)

"No; I was in the far West until April. I did not come eastward until
the war broke out. Then you are free, Anne? Do not be afraid to tell me;
I remember every word you said in Miss Vanhorn's little red parlor, and
I shall not repeat my mistake. You are, then, free?"

"I can not answer you."

"Then I will not ask; it all belongs to the one subject, I suppose. The
only part intrusted to me--the secret of your being here--I will
religiously guard. As to your present life--you would rather let this
Herr Scheffel continue looking for a place for you?"

"Yes."

"I will not interfere. But I shall write to you now and then, and you
must answer. If at the end of a month you have not obtained this
position you are hoping for--in a church choir, is it not?--you must let
me know. Will you promise?"

"I promise."

"And bear in mind this: you shall never be left friendless again while I
am on earth to protect you."

"But I have no right to--"

"Yes, you have; you have been more to me than you know." Here he paused,
and looked away as if debating with himself. "I have always intended
that you should know it some time," he continued; "perhaps this is as
good a time as any. Will you listen?"

"Yes."

He settled himself anew in his chair, meditated a moment, and then, with
all his natural fluency, which nothing could abate, with the
self-absorption which men of his temperament always show when speaking
of themselves, and yet with a certain guarded look at Anne too all the
while, as if curious to see how she would take his words, he