"Oh," said Courtney, baffled. Then, "Please tell Richard what it is."
"I cannot." His gaze was on the ground now.
Somehow Courtney was liking him better. As he glanced up, her eyes met his. "Be frank with me," she urged winningly. "Is it because you dislike it here?"
"No." His gaze was wandering again. "No, indeed."
"I'm glad of that," said she. "Do you believe me when I say I wish you to stay?"
He lowered his eyes, remained silent.
"If I were free to choose, I would wish you to go," she went on, speaking with the utmost deliberation. "I am not free. So, I wish you to stay because it will be most unpleasant for me if you persist in going. I venture to ask you, if it is not too great a sacrifice, to stay on—at least, for the present. But if you still say you must go, I shall not misjudge."
"I'll stay," was his prompt response. "Gladly." And his tone and eyes were sincere.
"Thank you," said she simply.
He looked at her with an appeal that was very engaging. "I know you'll hate me for having created this situation."