She waited, and Rosedale, congested with embarrassment, muttered that he remembered something of the kind.
“He made about nine thousand dollars,” Lily pursued, in the same tone of eager communicativeness. “At the time, I understood that he was speculating with my own money: it was incredibly stupid of me, but I knew nothing of business. Afterward I found out that he had NOT used my money—that what he said he had made for me he had really given me. It was meant in kindness, of course; but it was not the sort of obligation one could remain under. Unfortunately I had spent the money before I discovered my mistake; and so my legacy will have to go to pay it back. That is the reason why I am trying to learn a trade.”
She made the statement clearly, deliberately, with pauses between the sentences, so that each should have time to sink deeply into her hearer’s mind. She had a passionate desire that some one should know the truth about this transaction, and also that the rumour of her intention to repay the money should reach Judy Trenor’s ears. And it had suddenly occurred to her that Rosedale, who had surprised Trenor’s confidence, was the fitting person to receive and transmit her version of the facts. She had even felt a momentary exhilaration at the thought of thus relieving herself of her detested secret; but the sensation gradually faded in the telling, and as she ended her pallor was suffused with a deep blush of misery.
Rosedale continued to stare at her in wonder; but the wonder took the turn she had least expected.
“But see here—if that’s the case, it cleans you out altogether?”
He put it to her as if she had not grasped the consequences of her act; as if her incorrigible ignorance of business were about to precipitate her into a fresh act of folly.
“Altogether—yes,” she calmly agreed.
He sat silent, his thick hands clasped on the table, his little puzzled eyes exploring the recesses of the deserted restaurant.
“See here—that’s fine,” he exclaimed abruptly.
Lily rose from her seat with a deprecating laugh. “Oh, no—it’s merely a bore,” she asserted, gathering together the ends of her feather scarf.