Awkwardly, he closed his eyes and fumbled for a kiss. He looked around, and as he heard that deafening shout,— as he felt the influence of those thousand eyes fixed upon him,—as he listened to the cheers, all his misgivings—if he had any—vanished, and he felt more as if he were marching to a triumph, than proceeding to a shameful death. At table he carved in a gloomy but resolute manner. He walked her home. She tried to compose her thoughts, to think of the last six months, to steep herself in the calm beauty of the surroundings.
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