“I wished—I may not see you again for a long time, and I thought it would be better to explain myself certain circumstances which it is of paramount importance you should know than to trust others to do so, or to endeavor to commit them to writing.”
“Circumstances?” repeated Lois. “Of what kind?”
“Circumstances connected entirely with my own history; but as—must I say unhappily?—one who might be deemed the benefactor of us both—that one has chosen to link our fate—your destiny and mine—together, to a certain extent, it is your right to learn what otherwise——”
Paul felt conscious that every little speech he had attempted had proved a wretched failure. He feared that the task he had undertaken would prove beyond his strength or skill. What form of words should he use? How possibly bring the subject of his marriage forward? It was difficult enough in one way to break the seal of secrecy on the fatal topic to his mother; with this girl of eighteen it would be a thousand times more so.
“Miss Turquand,” he began, once again making another effort, “one chief reason why I have not before informed you of these circumstances has been that I really have not had the opportunity. The news that—in fact, that is to say, the knowledge that I was to—in a word, the contents of Mr. Vere Gardiner’s will came upon me like a thunderclap. I did not even know your name until last Friday, when I had the pleasure of seeing you for the first time. Why Mr. Vere Gardiner should have seen fit to make such a singular arrangement, I cannot conceive. I met him but once, so far as I am aware. He knew nothing of my private affairs. No doubt he meant well. It would, perhaps, be ungrateful on my part to find fault with his good intentions; but it is to be regretted that he could not fix on some more worthy object of his bounty than myself, or, at least, that he attached conditions to his munificent gifts which it is absolutely impossible I can fulfil.”
Lois’ eyes were kindling with the varying sensations that rose in her heart as she listened. With the swiftness of an already overexcited brain, her imagination ran rapidly through every conceivable range of impediments, except the one that really existed.
She looked so lovely, so graceful, so ethereal in the cross-light, that, as Paul Desfrayne looked down upon her fair, English face and beautiful figure, he felt a strange yearning desire to take her for a moment in his arms, and press one kiss upon the half-open rose-bud lips. More than ever he cursed the mad folly that had made him link those heavy chains upon his life that might never be loosened this side the grave.
What was he about to tell her? Lois rested her hand on the stone ledge of the balustrade; for she felt unnerved and agitated.
Paul Desfrayne was silent for some moments. Lois had only spoken once since he had joined her.
Blanche, having ascertained to her great satisfaction that she would be allowed to stay all night, and partly settled a newly started scheme for a tour of some weeks with the Quaintrees, was about to rush back to Lois’ side. But her quick glance had discovered how her friend was employed, and she drew back before she had made three steps. She discreetly returned into the drawing-room, and sat down at the piano.