"It's no trouble, I'm sure--I'd be pleased," she replied.
That was altogether a wonderful speech of hers, Dick thought,
because the words were the first coherent ones she had spoken
to him.
"May I stay?" asked Mercedes, smiling.
"By all means," he answered, and then he settled back and began.
Presently Gale paused, partly because of genuine emotion, and
stole a look from under his hand at Nell. She wrote swiftly, and
her downcast face seemed to be softer in its expression of
sweetness. If she had in the very least been drawn to him-- But
that was absurd--impossible!
When Dick finished dictating, his eyes were upon Mercedes, who
sat smiling curious and sympathetic. How responsive she was!
He heard the hasty scratch of Nell's pen. He looked at Nell.
Presently she rose, holding out his letter. He was just in time
to see a wave of red recede from her face. She gave him one
swift gaze, unconscious, searching, then averted it and turned
away. She left the room with Mercedes before he could express
his thanks.
But that strange, speaking flash of eyes remained to haunt and
torment Gale. It was indescribably sweet, and provocative of
thoughts that he believed were wild without warrant. Something
within him danced for very joy, and the next instant he was
conscious of wistful doubt, a gravity that he could not understand.
It dawned upon him that for the brief instant when Nell had met
his gaze she had lost her shyness.
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