She made a movement to rise, but sank back again.
“I am so tired, Louis,” she pleaded in a voice of tears, like a weary child.
“Yes, I know; but I will help you.” The unfamiliar, gentle quality of his voice penetrated even to her numbed senses.
She had not seen him since the night he had asked her to be his wife. No remembrance of this came to her, but his presence held something new and restful. She allowed him to draw her to her feet; and as calmly as a brother he led her upstairs and into her room. Without a question he lit the gas for her.
“Good-night, Ruth,” he said, blowing out the match. “Go right to bed; your head will be relieved by sleep.”
“Thank you, Louis,” she said, feeling dimly grateful for something his words implied; “good-night.”
Arnold noiselessly closed the door behind him. She quickly locked it and sat down in the nearest chair.
Her hands were interlaced so tightly that her nails left imprints in the flesh. She had something to consider. Oh dear, it was such a simple thing; was she to break her father’s heart, or her own and—his? Her father’s, or his.
It was so stupid to sit and repeat it. Surely it was decided long ago. Such a long time ago, when her father’s loving face had put on its misery. Would it look that way always? No, no, no! She would not have it; she dared not; it was too utterly wretched.
Still, there was some one else at the thought of whom her temples throbbed wildly. It would hurt him; she knew it. The thought for a moment was a miserable ecstasy; for he loved her,—her, simple Ruth Levice,—beyond all doubting she knew he loved her; and, oh, father, father, how she loved him! Why must she give it all up? she questioned fiercely; did she owe no duty to herself? Was she to drag out all the rest of her weary life without his love? Life! It would be a lingering death, and she was young yet in years. Other girls had married with graver obstacles, in open rupture with their parents, and they had been happy. Why could not she? It was not as if he were at fault; no one dared breathe a word against his fair fame. To look at his strong, handsome face meant confidence. That was when he left the room.