They exchanged a long silent look. His eyes had not left hers when he said: “I—I might.”
“Good! Now suppose she wasn’t in the world at all, or that you’d never heard of her. And suppose that you and I were—were on just the same terms that we are to-day. Would you—would you want to marry me? Answer me truly.”
“Why, yes; of course.”
“Now suppose that she and I were standing together, and you were led in to choose between us. And suppose you were absolutely free and untrammelled in your choice, with no question as to her feelings or mine to trouble you. Which would you take? Answer me just as truly and sincerely as you can.”
He took time to think, wheeling away from her, and walking up and down the little room with his hands behind his back. It occurred to neither that Barbara having broken the “engagement,” and returned the ring, the choice before him was purely hypothetical. Their relations were no more affected by the note she had written him that morning than by the ceremony through which he and Letty had walked in the previous year.
To Barbara the suspense was almost unbearable. In a minute or two, and with a word or two, she would 295 know how life for the future was to be cast. She would have before her the possibility of some day becoming a happy wife—or a great career like her aunt’s.
Pausing in his walk he confronted her just as he stood, his hands still clasped behind his back. Her own attitude, with elbow resting on the mantelpiece, was that of a woman equal to anything.
He spoke slowly. “Just as truly and sincerely as I can answer you—I don’t know.”
She stirred slightly, but otherwise gave no sign of her impatience. “And is there anything that would help you to find out?”
He shook his head. “Nothing that I can think of, unless––”