At the same time, her course toward him,
dictated at first by mere humanity, then goodwill, had made his
regard for her seem natural even to her girlish heart. If she had
read it all in a book, years before, she would have said, "A man
couldn't do less than love one when fortune had enabled her to do so
much for him." So she had simply approved of his declaration, down
by the run, of affection for which she was not yet ready, and she
approved of him all the more fondly because he did not passionately
and arbitrarily demand or expect that she should feel as he did, in
return. "I didn't," she had said to herself a score of times, "and
that was enough for him."
When later, for his sake, she faced the darkness of midnight, a
peril she dared not contemplate, and the cruel misjudgment which
would follow her action if discovered, something deeper awoke in her
nature--something kindled into strong, perplexing life when, in his
passionate gratitude, he had snatched her in his arms and, as she
had said, "given her his whole heart because he couldn't help
himself.
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