"I am not a poor man, either," I added, trying to weight my proposition with all the things that would count. "I can give you a home of comfort, even luxury. The days for you to toil in disagreeable offices are ended. The time when you will count your money to see if you can afford the necessaries of life is past. We will go on long journeys, to interesting lands. Your existence shall be, as far as I can make it so, a dream of happiness. Marjorie, believe me! I want to hear your sweet lips say the word that will make this world a heaven—now!"
Instead of being influenced by my passionate flow of language, she seemed only to shrink further and further away. I saw at last that, in some manner I could not understand, I was actually frightening her. Alarmed at her appearance I quickly released my hold and stood there, a very confused figure, panting with the excess of my emotions.
Marjorie seemed fainting and in my alarm I begged her to let me go and summon assistance.
"No," she whispered. "But you will stop—you will say no more? You may, if you will be so kind, get me—a—glass—of water. I shall be better—presently."
It took a long time to get the simple thing she wanted. There are no bells in the house, to begin with. The principal ambition of West India servants is to keep out of sight and hearing, lest they might be asked to do something. When one was at last found he could produce nothing colder than water that had stood in a jug since dinner. This would not do and, by the time he had found the ice, at least ten minutes must have passed.
Bringing the glass of water with all speed to the balcony, great was my disgust to find that a man had reached there before me and was even then engaged in conversation with my late companion. He had come upon the balcony from the public sitting room and was trying to persuade the lady to let him fetch something from his own chamber that he promised would speedily restore her. When he turned to meet me I was filled with positive rage. For the man was none other than my old fellow passenger, Edgerly!
"Where the devil did you come from?" I demanded, hotly.
"I hope I have done no harm," he answered, in an apologetic voice that made me feel as if I ought to punch my own head instead of his, which was my original intention. "I happened to step out on this balcony and seeing that the lady was ill offered to assist her. That is all."
He was always offering to assist her, it seemed to me, as I recalled the time when he flew to the companionway of the steamer with the same end in view.
"I think I will go in now, if you don't mind," said Marjorie, wearily, after she had sipped the water I brought. "I was overcome by—by the heat—I think, but I am much better."