“I want to say this, dear. If you and I can help it, not a word of what has happened to-day must ever be known. I have been deceived, most shamefully, but not by you. You have been honest and true from first to last. The best way to keep this secret, is for us two to marry as though nothing had happened. Nobody would believe it then. I am afraid that Mr. Craik will tell some one, because he is so angry.”
“I have told you my decision,” Mamie answered firmly, though her lips were white. “I have nothing more to say.”
“Think well of what you are doing. One should not come to such decisions when one is angry. Here I am, Mamie. Take me if you will, and forget that all those things have been said and done.”
For one moment, Mamie hesitated.
“Do you love me?” she asked, trying to read his heart in his eyes.
But the poor passion that had taken the place of love was gone. The knowledge that he had been played with and gambled for, though not by the girl herself, had given him a rude shock.
“Yes,” he answered, bravely trying to feel that he was speaking the truth. But there was no life in the word.
“No, dear,” said Mamie simply. “You never loved me. I see it now.”
He would have made some sort of protest. But she drew back from him, and from his outstretched hand.
“Will you let me be alone?” she asked.