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The elder Mr. Harman had retired to his study, and Charlotte and her uncle sat side by side in that young lady's own private apartment. The room looked snug and sheltered, and the subdued light from a Queen's reading-lamp, and from the glowing embers of a half burned-out fire, were very pleasant. Uncle Jasper was leaning back in an armchair, but Charlotte stood on the hearthrug. Soft and faint as the light was, it revealed burning cheeks and shining eyes; but the old face these tokens of excitement appealed to remained completely in shadow.
Charlotte had told the story she had heard that day, and during its whole recital her uncle had sat motionless, making no comment either by word or exclamation.