"You could come to me."
"To you," she repeated, more mystified than before.
Then a bright, tingling flush mounted to her cheek. She saw the expression in his eyes, and recognized its tenderness.
He made his meaning clearer.
"If you were married you would be freer."
She took a step backward and rested her shoulder against the trunk of a tree. The act indicated not fear, but a desire for support. The keenest of all her startled sensations was curiosity. What was the motive for this amazing offer? Surely not love as she understood love! Did he mean to sacrifice himself and all his plans to make her comfortable? He didn't seem ridiculous; he seemed incredible.
"But you weren't to marry!"
"I'm my own master," said he with dignity. "I must decide what is best. I'm the only one who can decide." His trembling became more violent. "I sometimes sit here in the evening and look down and think how happy you and I could be in such a house together. I think of it day and night; there isn't any rest for me."
A succession of images passed rapidly through Ellen's mind, herself in Amos's arms as Millie stood in Matthew's embrace—shameless Millie!—her father's keen face, the face of his friend who had somewhat resembled him, the dim Saal with its heavy air, its pale light, its stolid worshipers.
"Oh, it couldn't be!"