Jennie was silent for a little, thinking. She clasped his hand with a warm pressure. His gladdened eyes were fixed eagerly upon her face.
“Let it be so,” she said, at length. “For the present, at least, we will forget it.”
The conversation changed. Seated upon the floor at her feet, and looking lovingly up into her eyes, their talk grew of softer themes. Their voices fell, mellowed by love. Hours, it seemed to them, they conversed in that sweet love gossip so hard to translate, so weak and meaningless when put into words.
Looks, tones, hand-pressures, form the soul of lovers’ talk, and these no pen can write down. The words spoken are dreadfully prosy to outsiders; all the poetry lies in the language of lips and eyes.
“Your friends have all visited you, then?” she at length asked.
“Not all. Nearly all,” he replied. “Their kindness has helped me greatly.”
“Could they do less, and be friends?” she quickly replied. “I do not think much of those who have failed to come.”
“I do not blame them. They might have been away, or unable to come. And my very equivocal position is a very good reason for their absence.”
“It is no reason at all,” she broke out. “They are no friends of yours to desert you in your extremity.”
“Well, well, Jennie, there are only three or four.”
“And why?” he asked, laughing. “Are you going to put them in your black book?”
“No matter. I want to know their names,” she excitedly replied.
“Well, since it must be, it must be,” he said, resignedly. “First, there is Ellis Branson. Have you him down?”
“Yes. Go on,” she said, writing down the name.
“Is not that enough?” he said. “You have three good names there.”
“Not enough unless it is all,” she replied, with an earnest look.
“That is all the names I can give you, Jennie,” he said, more seriously. “This is an odd whim of yours, anyhow. Do you know you are acting strangely?”
“Not half as strangely as you,” she replied. “Are there any more names?”
“I decline to answer,” he said, with a slight frown on his brow.
“There, I do believe the absurd man is getting angry,” she exclaimed, laughing. “I must leave now, before the thunder-clouds arise.”
“No, no! Not so soon. You have been here no time. I will smile like a summer’s day if you will only remain.”