Two evenings later Noel called again, finding Mrs. Murray recovered and able to join the group around the table as usual. There was no consciousness expressed in the eyes of either Christine or himself as they met. At first she was very grave and silent, but under the influence of his easy talk her manner became natural, and at the close of the evening she found herself wondering if the exciting occurrences of their last meeting could be reality. Noel read aloud most of the evening an agreeable, unexciting book, and Christine thanked him from her heart that he did not ask, as usual, for music.  
As for Mrs. Murray, as the days went on she found herself continually wondering that such a state of things could last. She was perfectly sure of Noel’s feeling, and she thought its continued entire suppression very strange. She was often to make some excuse to leave them alone, but a fear of the consequences held her back, for she was absolutely unable to calculate upon Christine. She had not the courage to lift a finger in the matter.
 
Almost imperceptibly a change was coming over Christine, and by degrees Mrs. Murray became aware of it. She grew more silent and fond of being alone. She even went out now and took long, companionless walks, coming home and . “Poor girl!” thought her kind, old friend. “She is very unhappy, and for a little while, in her deliverance from a worse unhappiness, she had managed to forget it partly.”
 
On one occasion Noel rather urgently pressed the matter of being allowed to bring his mother and sisters to call. He did so in the hope that time might have somewhat modified Christine’s feeling in the matter, but he found it absolutely unchanged and was obliged to withdraw his request.
 
As the days and weeks went by Noel became every day more restless and gloomy. He was unhappy if he stayed away from Christine, and yet to be in her presence merely as a friendly visitor was often and depressing to an almost intolerable degree. He scarcely ever saw her alone for a moment, and he had a certain conviction that while Mrs. Murray did some gentle plotting to leave them tête-à-tête Christine managed ingeniously to her plans.
 
About this time he was compelled to go away for a week on a business expedition, and so, for more than that space of time, he had not called at Mrs. Murray’s. When he rang the door-bell on the evening of his return Harriet, who answered it, left him to find his way alone to the pretty , warm and lighted and empty, as he thought. The next instant, however, his heart gave a bound, as he saw at its opposite end Christine, tall and slight and young and beautiful, , with her back turned, before a table against the wall, on which a large rested.
 
It was heavily framed and he knew he had never seen it there before. The fact was Mrs. Murray, who had a very romantic heart, had seen it in a shop-window and bought it, and it had just been sent home.
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