"Stand right there, Miss Lady," said he, with all his old imperiousness. "Stand in that place where I done made it clean and easy for you, like I want to make the whole world clean and easy for you always. I'd like to smooth it that-away for you, always. Now, look at me, Miss Lady. I ain't a coward, at least I never was till now, and maybe not now; for I came here as soon as I knew how this thing was, though God knows I wanted to get on my horse and ride the other way as fast as I could. I came here because I wouldn't have been a man if I hadn't come, if I hadn't said this to the first woman I ever thought twice about."
"Don't, don't, please! please!" cried Miss Lady, pushing out her hands, but he commanded her again, sternly.
"Stop," said he. "There's one time when a man has a right to say his say, and say it all. I've got to tell you this. I've got to offer myself to you in marriage, Miss Lady. I've got to ask that of you; and, God pity me, I've got to give myself my own answer. Listen! Stop! It ain't for you to answer. It's for me.
"Now, look at me. I'm strong. I'm not afraid of any living thing, except you. I'm old, but there's younger men that's no better. I'm rich enough. I've got two thousand acres of the best land in the Delta, and that's the best on earth. There's money enough here to take you anywhere you want to go in all the world. I couldn't be mean to no woman. It's in my nature to feel that a woman is a thing to be took care of, for ever and for ever—that oughtn't to work, that oughtn't to worry, that ought to just be! I don't know much about women, but I always did feel that-away. You'd never have to worry about that. I wouldn't lie to you, not for any reason. No man should ever raise a breath against you. If"—he swept a hand over his face, but still went on.
"Listen," he said, "Miss Lady Ellison, I, Calvin Blount, old Calvin Blount, this sort of man like I told you, I offer myself to you, and all I have, for your own. I offer you that—" The girl's eyes looked up at him, swimming now all the more in tears. His face was distorted, but he went on. "Don't," said he, "please don't! Listen, here's the answer. By the Eternal, you can't and you shan't marry old Cal Blount! It wouldn't be right. It wouldn't be right, Miss Lady," said he again, presently. "It's right for me to tell you that I never thought twice of any other woman, that in my soul I love you, that I never shall know a happy day without you; but it's right, too, for me to give myself the answer, and I do. And it's No, Miss Lady, it's No!" He turned away. Miss Lady felt about her blindly and dropped her head on the rail of the chair, sobbing.
"I can't help it. I can't help things, Colonel Cal," said she, "but then, but then—"
"Yes, child; yes, Miss Lady," said Calvin Blount, gently, "but then, but then! I never did know much, but I'm learnin'. I'm man enough now to know all about what you mean when you say 'but then.' Come, it's all over. But I can't bear to see you cry. Please stop, Miss Lady. Don't do that."
Miss Lady could not stop. She buried her face in her hands. She half felt the touch of a hand, very light, upon her head, a touch given but once, and swiftly withdrawn. She heard him continue. "This home is yours," said he, "and you can stay here, I'll go out into the woods again. You need not fret and you need not fear. We couldn't, maybe, both stay here together now. Or, it may be there's a bigger world for you somewhere, and you want to go there. I won't stand in your way, and I'll help you all I can. I'm done talking about this, now and for ever. But if you don't stop crying, I'll get on my horse right now, and I'll ride out in the woods and I never will come back again."
Miss Lady put out her hand to him.
"Sir," said she, half-whispering, "I didn't know that men were this way. It's different from what I thought. But you must remember," and she smiled wanly, "you must remember always only that it was you who refused yourself. Please think of it that way, Mr. Cal."