be more to the point. You are looking wonderfully well," she broke off in another tone; "had n't we better sit down?"
"I did n't come here for the advantage of conversation," Benyon answered. And he was going on, but she interrupted him—
"You came to say something dreadful, very likely; though I hoped you would see it was better not. But just tell me this before you begin. Are you successful, are you happy? It has been so provoking, not knowing more about you."
There was something in the manner in which this was said that caused him to break into a loud laugh; whereupon she added,—
"Your laugh is just what it used to be. How it comes back to me! You have improved in appearance," She went on.
She had seated herself, though he remained standing; and she leaned back in a low, deep chair, looking up at him, with her arms folded. He stood near her and over her, as it were, dropping his baffled eyes on her, with his hand resting on the corner of the chimney-piece. "Has it never occurred to you that I may deem myself absolved from the promise made you before I married you?"
"Very often, of course. But I have instantly dismissed the idea. How can you be 'absolved'? One promises, or one doesn't. I attach no meaning to that, and neither do you." And she glanced down to the front of her dress.
