relief to both that at this moment Mrs. Murray came into the
room. They turned abruptly from the picture, and in the cordial greeting
which the hostess bestowed upon her guest the moment's ordeal was
successfully passed. Not, however, without the watchful eyes of Mrs.
Murray having seen much, and conjectured far more. Whether her impulse
in buying the picture had done good or harm she was puzzled to
determine.
XV.
Noel, during the sleepless hours of the night which followed, looked the
whole situation in the face and made his resolutions, strong and fast,
for the future of Christine and himself. His love for her, which she had
not forbidden and could not forbid, must be enough for him henceforth,
and because all his soul desired her love in return she should not, for
that reason, be deprived of his friendship. When he thought of loving
any other woman, and being loved by her in return, and contrasted it
with the mere right to love Christine and be near her, forever unloved,
he felt himself rich beyond telling.
That evening, determined to put into effect at once this new resolution
and conveying some hint of it to Christine, he went to Mrs. Murray's.
He rang the bell and entered the house with a strong sense of
self-possession, which was only a very little disturbed when the maid
again ushered him into the little drawing-room where he found Christine
alone.
He could see that his coming was utterly unexpected. The lamp, by which
she usually sat at work, was not lighted, and the gas in the hall cast
only a dim light upon her here, but the fire lent its aid in lighting up
the figure. She was lying on the lounge before the fire as he came in,
but she rose to her feet at once, saying, in a voice whose slight ring
of agitation disturbed a little farther yet his self-poised calm:
"Mrs. Murray has gone to see a neighbor whose daughter is very ill. They
have just moved to the house and have no friends near, and she went to
see what she could do. She will be back very soon. She did not think you
would come to-night."
Noel heard the little strained sound in her voice, and fancied he saw
also about her eyes a faint trace of recent tears; but the light was
turned low and she stood with her back to it, as if to screen herself
from his gaze. A great wave of tenderness possessed his heart. He felt
sure he could trust himself to be tender and no more, as he said gently:
"Christine, have you been crying--here all al
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