Perhaps she shared this feeling, for she was silent too; but the delicate flush upon her face, and the soft shining of her eyes, enhanced her beauty to an extent which made many marvel that they had not observed it before. Now and again the eyes of the undeclared lovers met in a quick, eloquent glance; but for a while they did not directly address one another, for the table was silent, listening to the words of the Duke, who was addressing his host, and discussing with him some matter of general interest. It was only later on, when the hum of talk became more dispersed, that Geraldine was able to say in a low voice,— "I have heard of the success of your book. It has made my heart glad and happy. I did read some or it ere it went to the Queen. I thought it more beautiful than I can say." "It should be beautiful, in all sooth, fair lady," answered Grey in a very low voice, "for the thought of it was inspired by the looks and words of one who is of all living creatures the fairest, the purest, the most precious. If my poor work meets with success in the world, it will be due not to any skill of mine, but to the goodness of two gracious ladies, one who inspired and the other who approved its motive." Geraldine’s face burned; there was a great joy in her heart. She could not misunderstand the look he bent upon her. Could it indeed be true that she had had any part or lot in this matter? The thought was bewildering, unspeakable. She sat as one in a dream. She heard him tell softly the tale of those strange events which had brought him unexpected wealth and prosperity. She realized that the time of trial and poverty and struggle was over, and that the sun of success was shining in his sky, and her heart was glad within her. Yet she rejoiced to think that he had faced privation and poverty bravely, and had sought by no unworthy way to mend his broken fortunes. She had trusted him and loved him in the hour of darkness: she was not ashamed to admit it now; she was proud and glad that it had been so. Later on in the evening they found themselves together and alone in the little room at the far end of the reception suite, where they could talk undisturbed and unheard. It was sweet with the scent of violets, and the soft light of the wax candles in silver sconces illumined it only dimly. He closed the door, and let the curtain fall across it, and then he held out his uninjured hand to her. The broken arm, though mending fast, was still in a sling. "Geraldine! my beloved!" She went straight to him then, like a bird to its nest. No protestations were needed between them. They loved each other, and they knew it.