“Oh, yes,” said Ronald, who was serious by this time; “it is much better to be honest, now that you have brought me three thousand miles to hear what you have to say–much better. By all means.”
“I am very sorry, Ronald,” Joe answered. “I really did not mean you to come, and I am very sorry,–oh, more sorry than I can tell you,–but I cannot do it, you know.”
“If you won’t, of course you can’t,” he said. “Will you please tell me who he is?”
“Who?–what?” asked Joe, coldly. She was offended at the tone.
“The fellow you have pitched upon in my place,” he said roughly.
Joe looked up into his face with an expression that frightened him. Her dark eyes flashed with an honest fire, He stared angrily at her as they walked slowly along.
“I made a mistake,” she said slowly. “I am not sorry. I am glad. I would be ashamed to marry a man who could speak like that to any woman. I am sorry for you, but I am glad for myself.” She looked straight into his eyes, until he turned away. For some minutes they went on in silence.
“I beg your pardon, Joe,” said Ronald presently, in a subdued tone.
“Never mind, Ronald dear, I was angry,” Joe answered. But her eyes were full of tears, and her lips quivered.
Again they went on in silence, but for a longer time than before. Joe felt that the blow was struck, and there was nothing to be done but to wait the result. It had been much harder than she had expected, because Ronald was so angry; she had expected he would be pained. He, poor fellow, was really startled out of all self-control. The idea that Joe could ever ultimately hesitate about marrying him had never seemed to exist, even among the remotest possibilities. But he was a gentleman in his way, and so he begged her pardon, and chewed the cud of his wrath in silence for some time.