"I did not," said Jim, who forgot his reserve and let himself go. "When I saw you on the terrace, I got a thrill and a sense of triumph I'd never known before. But to find you was not enough; I had got to claim, and keep you. I'd got to have something to offer; I had to justify myself. Well, that's why I began to drain the marsh——"
Evelyn stopped him. "I wasn't worth it, Jim," she said, with half-ashamed sincerity. "But I understand; you are too proud to take, you want to give. Although you're foolish, I like your pride."
For a moment Jim was silent and his face got hard. "It's done with," he said, rather hoarsely. "I meant to make good before I claimed you, and this loss has set me back. I'm not beaten, but I must wait until I can give you all you ought to have. You're so fine and highly-tempered that you're fragile; rough jolts and jars are not for such as you. I've got to work——"
She got up and looked at him shyly, with color in her face and her eyes shining.
"And until you make good, you mean to leave me out? Will it cost you nothing, Jim?"
"It will cost me much," he said, grimly. "More than I durst reckon, but I must brace up and pay."
"But suppose I will not let you leave me out? Am I to give nothing?" Evelyn asked. "Besides, it's my right to choose, and you meant to rob me of my right. If I didn't know you well, I should be angry. Langrigg is yours; but if you had nothing, do you think I'd keep our extravagance at Whitelees and let you go?" She turned her head and then looked up, stretching out her hands. "I can't let you go! I want to help."
Jim took her hands and next moment she was in his arms. Then there were steps in the passage and she gently pushed him back.
"You must tell nobody just yet," she said.
The others came in and Mordaunt looked at Evelyn rather hard, but she went to the piano and opening a music-book, beckoned Dick.