“You did not wound me. Er—quite the contrary.... As I say, I reflected upon what you said. I slept little. Unquestionably you were right.... I have lived in error. My estimate of myself was mistaken. I have, in short, been of negligible value to the world.”
“Mr. Pell!”
“If you please.... I have reached a determination to revolutionize my life. I shall no longer stand aloof. No. I shall participate in events.... Indeed, I have made a beginning—not altogether auspicious. I essayed to make friends with Tubal this morning, but he seemed not to comprehend my meaning. However, I shall persist.... As to yourself—we are not friends, you and I. You do not rate me highly.... I wish to correct this.” He paused. “As I have been compelled to inform you, I have fallen in love with you.... This moment, as you entered, I glowed with pleasure.... Yesterday I informed you you need expect nothing to come of it. To-day I am in doubt.... I desired to hold myself free from—er—such things as marriage. Doubtless that, also, was a mistake.... I am open-minded.”
“You—you—are open-minded!” Carmel gasped out the words.
“Exactly. I have determined to allow the emotion to follow its natural course, without interference by myself. Even if it results in marriage with you, I shall not interfere.”
“Of all things,” said Carmel.
“Meantime, while the more important matter is working itself out, let us endeavor to be friends.” As he said this there came into his voice a wistfulness, a humility which touched her. Her eyes filled. She held out her hand.
“Friends!... Of course we shall be friends! You must overlook my bad temper. I have so many faults.”
His eyes glowed, his face became animated. “You,” he said, eagerly, “are very lovely. You are—er—wonderful....” He stared at her as if she had been an apparition. Carmel caught her breath and turned away abruptly.
So much for Evan Pell’s effort to break through his chrysalis shell.... The fates had not determined if he were to become a moth or a butterfly....