Again he moved a pace, and the girl fancied he would have laid his hand upon her shoulder. "No," she said decisively.
Alton sighed, and his face became impassive, but it seemed to the girl that there was relief in it.
"I think I could be kind to you and make things smooth for you," he said very simply. "I should always look up to you, and I wouldn't ask for very much—only to see you happy."
He stopped apparently for inspiration, and Nellie Townshead smiled a little. "Do you think that last was wise?"
Alton turned towards her with a little glint in his eyes, and the girl, who knew his temperament, felt that she had gone far enough. He had borne it very well, and it seemed to her that other men might have handled the situation, which was difficult, less delicately.
"I asked you a question, and it seems to me that it still waits an answer."
The girl rose and stood looking at him with a little colour in her cheeks and a flash in her eyes, but there was that in her attitude which held Alton at a distance. "If you were not the man you are, and I was a little weaker, I should have said yes," she said. "As it is—there is nothing that would induce me to marry you."
It was almost dark now, and Nellie Townshead could not see her companion's face, but she was no longer careful to keep her own in the shadow, even when the radiance from the stove flickered about the room.
"Will you not think it over?" he said very quietly. "I know how unfit
I am for you—and I am a cripple—but——"
The light was now more visible in Nellie Townshead's eyes, but her voice was gentle. "No," she said, "There are two very good reasons why it is impossible—and you know one of them. Now do you believe I do not know what brought you here to-day?"