He took it, and, intoxicated by those superb eyes, ventured to press it tenderly. A mild wonder took possession of Eva’s mind that anybody so very young could have developed such an astonishing amount of impudence, but she did not resent the pressure. What did she care about having her hand squeezed when it was a question of seeing Ernest? Poor deluded cherub! CHAPTER IV. AFTER MANY DAYS Within an hour of the departure of Lieutenant Jasper, Eva heard a fly draw up at the door. Then came an interval and the sound of two people walking up the steps, one of whom stumbled a good deal; then a ring. “Is Mrs. Plowden at home?” said a clear voice, the well-remembered tones of which sent the blood to her head and then back to her heart with a rush. “Yes, sir.” “Oh! Wait here, flyman. Now, my good girl, I must ask you to give me your hand, for I am not in a condition to find my way about strange places.” Another pause, and the drawing-room door opened, and the maid came in, leading Ernest, who wore a curious, drawn look upon his face. “How do you do?” she said, in a low voice, coming and taking him by the hand. “That will do, Jane.” He did not speak till the door closed; he only looked at her with those searching blind eyes. Thus they met again after many years. She led him to a sofa, and he sat down. “Do not leave go of my hand,” he said quickly; “I have not yet got used to talking to people in the dark.” She sat down on the sofa beside him, feeling frightened and yet happy. For awhile they remained silent; apparently they could find nothing to say, and, after all, silence seemed most fitting. She had never thought to sit hand in hand with him again. She looked at him; there was no need for her to keep a guard over her loving glances, for he was blind. At length she broke the silence. “Were you surprised to get my message?” she asked, gently. “Yes; it was like getting a message from the dead. I never expected to see you again. I thought that you had quite passed out of my life.” “So you had forgotten me?” “Why do you say such a thing to me? You must know, Eva, that it is impossible for me to forget you; I almost wish that it were possible. I meant that you had passed out of my outward life, for out of my mind you can never pass.” Eva hung her head and was silent, and yet his words sent a thrill of happiness through her. So she had not quite lost him after it all. “Listen, Eva,” Ernest went on, gathering himself together, and speaking sternly enough now, and with a strange suppressed energy that frightened her. “How you came to do what you have done you best know.” “It is done; do not let us speak of it. I was not altogether to blame,” she broke in. “I was not going to speak of it. But I was going to say this, now while I have the chance, because time is short, and I think it right that you should know the truth. I was going to tell you just that for what you have done I freely forgive you.” “O Ernest!”