“What your purpose may be, I cannot guess; but matters have gone too far for us to fence with words or feign ignorance of facts. You can have had but the one purpose in coming to Morvaix and to Malincourt. You have already expressed it openly in your letters. It is to further my dead parents’ wish for our marriage.”
He fell back a pace in his intense wonderment, and an exclamation of astonishment rushed to his lips only to be checked with a supreme effort. But she saw the look and noted the gesture, and her pride took instant offence.
“I will leave you, monsieur; perhaps you will explain this obstacle to my uncle with more candour than you have deemed necessary to show to me.”
He conquered his surprise, and the wounded pride in her eyes and voice roused him. To him she was more than aught else in the world, and instantly he took the resolve to sweep away the misunderstanding by explaining all—his purpose in Morvaix, and that he was not the man she believed. He could not let her go in anger, let the cost be what it would.
“One moment. As I live, there is no obstacle on my side to—to our marriage. That I swear. But I will explain all.”
She paused and turned, her foot already on the steps to leave him; and his heart leapt to see the light that his words brought back to her eyes.
“You have tried me sorely, cousin. I——” she faltered and smiled and then leant for support against the balustrade.
“God knows I would not cause you even a moment’s uneasy thought,” he said earnestly. “I have done wrong, I know, but the temptation was a sweet one. I had no thought to deceive you when I came——”
He got no farther, for at that moment de Proballe stepped from the house and crossed the terrace to them, saying cheerily as he approached—
“Well, are you getting to know one another, eh?”