Each had been "forgetting" to the utmost of the poor power within, in
accordance with the high principles enshrined in either heart. Yet what
a mockery that forgetting seemed, now that it was laid before them naked
and bare! The heart turning sick to faintness at the mere sight of each
other, the hands trembling at the mutual touch, the wistful eyes shining
with a glance that too surely spoke of undying love!
But not a word of this was spoken. However true their hearts might be,
there was no fear of the tongue following up the error. Lord Hartledon
would no more have allowed himself to speak than she to listen. Neither
had the hands met in ordinary salutation; it was only when he resigned
the hat to her that the fingers touched: a touch light, transient, almost
imperceptible; nevertheless it sent a thrill through the whole frame. Not
exactly knowing what to do in her confusion, Miss Ashton sat down on the
bench again and put her hat on.
"I must say a word to you before I go on my way," said Lord Hartledon.
"I have been wishing for such a meeting as this ever since I saw you at
Versailles; and indeed I think I wished for nothing else before it. When
you think of me as one utterly heartless--"
"Stay, Lord Hartledon," she interrupted, with white lips. "I cannot
listen to you. You must be aware that I cannot, and ought not. What are
you thinking about?"
"I know that I have forfeited all right to ask you; that it is an
unpardonable intrusion my presuming even to address you.
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