"I know," he insisted. "You've sung it to me——"
"No—not to you—not love," she said, startled. And then, "You had no right to be listenin'." And then, with a glance at Aunt Tillie's clock, "You have no right to be here now. It's late."
"But I can't go until you understand what I want to do for you. You say that I can't know what love is. It asks nothing and only gives. I swear I wanted to give without thought of a return—until you laughed at me. And then—I wanted to punish you because you wouldn't understand——"
"Yes. You punished me——"
"Forgive me. You shouldn't have laughed at me, Beth. If you knew everything, you'd understand that I'm doing it all without a hope of payment,—just because I've got to."
Her eyes grew larger. "What do you mean?"
"I can't tell you now—but something has happened that will make a great difference to you."
"What?"
"Forgive me. Come to-morrow and perhaps I'll tell you. We've already wasted two days."
"I'm not so sure they've been wasted," said Beth quietly.