The Three Fates

by F. Marion Crawford

Again there was silence as they shot along through the purple shadows.

“And you, are you fond of me?” asked the young girl, looking furtively towards him, then blushing and gazing once more into the depths of the stream. George started slightly. He had not thought that the question would come.

“Indeed I am,” he answered. He thought he heard a sigh on the rising evening breeze. “I grow more fond of you every day,” he added quietly, though he felt that he was very far from calm.

So far as he had spoken, his words had been truthful. He was becoming more attached to Mamie every day, and she was beginning to take the place that Constance had occupied in his doings if not in his thoughts. But there was not a spark of love in his growing affection for her, and the discovery he had just made disturbed him exceedingly. He had never blamed himself for anything he had done in his intercourse with Constance Fearing, but he accused himself now of having misled the innocent girl who loved him and of having then, by a careless question, drawn from her a confession of what she felt. It flashed upon him suddenly that he had taken Constance’s place, and Mamie had taken his; that he had been thoughtless and cruel in all he had said and done during the last two months, and that she might well reproach him with having been heartless. A thousand incidents flooded his memory and crowded together upon his brain, and each brought with it a sting to his sense of honour. He had inadvertently done a great harm, and it had been done since his coming to the country. Before that, Mamie had felt for him exactly what he still felt for her, a simple, open-hearted affection. Remembering the brief struggle that had taken place in his mind before he had accepted Totty’s invitation, he accused himself of having known beforehand what would happen, and of having weakly yielded because he had liked the prospect of leading so luxurious an existence. What surprised him, however, and threw all his reflections out of balance was that Totty herself should not have foreseen the disaster, Totty the diplomatic, Totty the worldly, Totty the covetous, who would as soon have given her daughter to one of her servants as to penniless George Wood! It was past comprehension. Yet, in spite of his distress, he could hardly repress a smile as he imagined what Totty’s rage would be, should he marry Mamie and carry her off before the eyes of her horrified parent. Sherrington Trimm, himself, would be as well satisfied with him as with any other honest man, if he were sure of Mamie’s inclinations.

Now, however, something must be done at once. He was not a weak creature, like Constance Fearing, to hesitate for months and years, practising a deception upon himself which he had not the courage to carry to the end. He even regretted the last words he had spoken, and which had been prompted by a foolish wish not to hurt the girl’s feelings. It would have been better if he had left them unsaid. The situation must be defined, the harm arrested, if it could not be undone, and should it seem necessary, as it probably would, he himself must leave the place on the following morning. He opened his mouth to speak, but the blood rushed to his face and he could not articulate the words. He was overcome with shame and remorse and he would have chosen to do anything, to undergo any humiliation rather than this. But in a moment his strong nature gathered itself and grew strong, as it always did in the face of great difficulties. He hated hesitation and he would not hesitate, cost what it might. He was not cowardly, and he would not be afraid.

“Mamie,” he said, suddenly, and he wondered how his voice could be so gentle, “Mamie, I do not love you.”

He had expected everything, except what happened. Mamie looked into his eyes, and once again in the evening light the expression of her love transfigured her half pretty face and lent it a completeness of beauty such as he had never seen.

“Have you not told me that, dear?” she asked, half sadly, half lovingly. “It is not new. I have known it long.”

George stared at her for a moment.

“I feared I had not said it clearly,” he answered in low tones.