CHAPTER X.
CONFESSIONS.
Sidonie, panting for breath but still determined, did not stop until she had led Bruno behind the little hedge back of the cottage. Then, astonished at her own temerity, she began to be conscious of a feeling of bewildered embarrassment. What would they think of her?
Ah, in this desperate way she had confessed her love before the world—and all for one who did not reciprocate her affection. Oh, the shame of it! What should she do or say?
Until now Bruno himself had not guessed her secret. He had regarded her as a kind and faithful friend—nothing more. At the same time he felt that he had betrayed his secret, and he too was confused and silent. Neither dreamed of speaking, and but this one thought possessed their minds: “I have proclaimed my unrequited love to the world.”
About to go away, Sidonie raised her eyes and saw Bruno’s sad, despairing face. Pity filled her soul.
“You are unhappy, Bruno,” she tenderly said, extending her hand in sympathy, at whose readiness the astonished Bruno burst into sobs. The pretty little cripple’s heart sank and tear-drops wet her long lashes.
“Oh, why—why do you love her so much?” she asked bitterly.
Bruno understood the reproach and jealousy that prompted the question.
“Can I help it?” he said impulsively. “Am I the master of my own heart?”