TWENTY THREE
Mr. Henry arrived — a gentleman renowned for his chivalry and valour, yet more admired, perhaps, for the gentle warmth that seemed to follow him wherever he went. He came alone, unattended by any show of grandeur, his quiet confidence needing no adornment. The mere sight of him set my heart to a flutter I could neither still nor conceal. I must confess, I hold him in the highest admiration — though I would sooner have perished than let Papa suspect it. As the maids, Papa, and I went forth to receive him, I felt my pulse quicken. His carriage door opened, and when his eyes met mine, something within me — long still — stirred again. For a brief instant, his gaze softened with recognition, then, as though recalling himself, he looked upon me as if I were a stranger. He approached, bowing sl
- Writer
