“That is because you look at it from one point of view, and I from another. To you it means fresh faces and other scenes—in short, a change, probably more or less welcome after the quiet and monotony of existence at Withington Chase.” He paused. Ethel was quite aware that he was waiting for her to say: “And from your point of view what does it mean?” By this she needed no one to tell her what his reply would be. Everything had been revealed to her as in a flash, and she marvelled at her blindness. And now the point for her to decide, and that on the instant, was whether she should, or should not, ask him that simple-seeming question, which she felt would but be the precursor to one of infinitely more significance on his part, from answering which there would be no possible escape for her. And in what terms was she prepared to answer it? Her heart-throbs seemed to deafen her and her mind was torn by a conflict of emotions, among which, however, one claimed predominance over the others. She knew and owned to herself that she loved him. Then in the silence a voice spoke. “And from your point of view, Mr. Lisle, what does Lady Pell’s announcement mean?” It was as though some force within her had compelled her to put the question in her own despite. “It means,” began Everard, and he paused for an instant as if his breath had suddenly failed him—“it means more, far more than I could tell you in many words.” Neither of them had been looking at each other, but Lisle now left off his employment of punching holes in the turf, and drawing himself up, he turned on Ethel a face all aglow with the emotion of the moment.