“It is your pity that speaks now, my dearest. You feel grieved for me, and in the pity of your heart you are willing to give up all your late repugnance, and sacrifice yourself to my happiness. Yes, even as you once feared you would do in the case of your guardian——”
“But oh, David Lindsay, it is so different! It would have been a mortal sin for me to have been Marcel’s wife. It seems to me now it would be a sin not to be yours!” wept Gloria.
“You think and speak on an impulse, dearest, that you would repent. You would be sure to repent it; and then, Gloria, I should be most wretched indeed. No, love, I must not take advantage of this pity you feel, for it is nothing else, Gloria. To-morrow I must leave you. It is my duty to do so. I will send your aunt, Miss de Crespigney, to you——”
“Oh! David Lindsay, but my heart will break!”
“No, no, love! Listen to me. Try yourself, dearest. Find out what will make you happy. Now you suffer from a generous, tender sympathy with me, which is not love, not the love the soul craves, and you think I will be unhappy. I shall not be so, dearest. I shall be actively engaged in doing my duty.”
“Oh, but it is not only for you, David Lindsay, it is for myself that I am grieving. I shall miss you so much!”
“Because I have been with you for nearly two weeks, and you have no one else, except these strangers. But, Gloria, in a short time your aunt will be here.”
“But she will not be you!” wailed the girl.
“Listen further. If, when you have got over this pang of parting, and have lived some little time under the influence of your aunt, you should then, after calm reflection, feel that you could be happy with me, write and recall me, and I will be at your feet again, as I am now.”
He had controlled himself by a great and sustained exertion of his will, and she at last grew quieter under his influence.