He went with her almost in silence.
In her own room she turned upon him with a wonderful, illumined smile, and held out her hand.
"I won't have you badgered," she said. "But--it is true, is it not?"
He took her hand, looking straight into her beautiful eyes. There was more life in her face at that moment than he had ever seen before. She was as one suddenly awakened. "What is true, Miss de Vigne?" he questioned.
"That you care for her," she answered, "that she cares for you."
His look remained full upon her. "In a friendly sense, yes," he said.
"In no other sense?" she insisted. Her eyes were shining, as if her whole soul were suddenly alight with animation. "Tell me," she said, as he did not speak immediately, "have you ever cared for her merely as a friend?"
There was no evading the question, neither for some reason could he resent it. He hesitated for a second or two; then, "You have guessed right," he said quietly. "But she has never suspected it, and--she never will."
To his surprise Rose frowned. "But why not tell her?" she said. "Surely she has a right to know!"
He smiled and shook his head. "Pardon me! No one has the smallest right to know. Would you say that of yourself if you cared for someone who did not care for you?"
She blushed under his eyes suddenly and very vividly, and in a moment turned from him. "Ah, but that is different!" she said. "A woman is different! If she gives her heart where it is not wanted, that is her affair alone."
He did not pursue his advantage; he liked her for the blush.
"Isn't it rather an unprofitable discussion?" he said gently. "Suppose we get to our game of Patience!"
And Rose acquiesced in silence.