‘Finally, papa was so ill that I forgot all about my dress. I was in a black frock, sitting beside his bed, I know, when you came.’ ‘Yes, I remember. My eyes fell upon you the instant I came in. I remember being struck, then and there, with the contrast between your white face and black dress, and great startled eyes, and this flood of gold, Avice.’ He smiled slightly as he touched a tress of her hair. ‘And I remember that as you came in, I really turned cold with anxiety and alarm. You were pale too, and your eyes seemed to burn upon me. I remember how you walked up to my father, and bent over him, and I thought suddenly, “Oh, I hope he will like me!” Then papa remembered me, and took my hand, and said, “Here’s Avice—you must learn to know her, for when I’m gone she will have no one but you; and she is a hot-house plant, I can tell you.” And you, Jerome, you took my hand—I could not speak. You smiled at me, and I felt as if a tight string had been cut loose from my heart; and you said, “One only needs to look at her to see that.” I must have looked alarmed, for you said, “Do you think you can spare me a little of your regard, my child?” and you put your arm round me, and kissed me. I would have _died_ for you, Jerome, from that moment,’ she concluded, looking into his face with eyes full of suppressed, passionate devotion. ‘Why, you never told me before anything of this,’ he said, in some surprise. ‘Because I waited to see if you would change; if you would presently begin to think me an interloper. But I know you don’t. Oh, I do so love you!’ He took her chin in his hand, and looked down into the glowing, excited young face; then stooped and kissed her, saying: ‘I only wish we had not been strangers so long.’ They turned back, having come to the end of the garden, and Avice went on: ‘I have a great many things to ask about, Jerome. First, I want to know if we are rich?’ ‘Rich! No. At least, not millionaires. I don’t exactly know what my father’s income is. Somewhere about two or three thousand a year, I suppose. He has always allowed me six hundred, since I came of age; and it has been quite enough.’ ‘But you lead such a simple life, compared with that of some young men.’ He looked at her, surprised. ‘What do you know about the lives “some” young men lead?’ ‘I don’t know anything, except that most of papa’s gentlemen friends spend more than six hundred a year, I am sure. I could not help seeing things, when we have stayed in so many places. You don’t keep a lot of horses, nor play cards for large stakes, nor give grand entertainments, nor spend heaps of money on dress.’ ‘In all those matters I am severely virtuous, I confess—at any rate, in the last. At the same time, my sweet child, I have always, by dint of unwearying exertions, contrived to live up to my income; and perhaps had it been larger even, I might have succeeded in spending it.’