“Wait a minute! You did not know that I loved you. I read that in your friendly candor. I felt that I was aiming too high but I couldn’t give up the hope of winning you some day, and I meant to be patient. Now I expect you have got a painful shock; but I’m going away next week—and I was swept off my feet.”
“It isn’t a shock,” she answered with a smile that hid some confusion. “You’re too modest, Aynsley; any sensible girl would feel proud of your offer. But, for all that, I’m afraid—”
“Please think it over,” he begged. “Though I’m by no means what you have a right to expect, there’s this in my favor that, so far as I’m capable of it, you can make what you like of me. Then I’m starting on a new career, and there’s nobody who could help me along like you.”
Ruth was silent for a few moments, lost in disturbing thought. She knew his virtues and his failings, and she trusted him. Now she realized with a sense of guilt that she had not been quite blameless. She had seen his love for her, and, while she had never led him on, she might have checked him earlier; she could not be sure that she had altogether wished to do so. She was fond of him; indeed, she was willing to love him, but somehow was unable to do so.
“Aynsley,” she said, “I’m more sorry than I can tell you; but you really must put me out of your mind.”
“It’s going to be difficult,” he answered grimly. “But I believe you like me a little?”
“I think the trouble is that I like you too much—but not in the way that you wish.”
“I understand. I’ve been too much of a comrade. But if I were very patient, you might, perhaps, get to like me in the other way?”
“It would be too great a risk, Aynsley.”
“I’ll take it and never blame you if you find the thing too hard.” The eagerness suddenly died out of his voice. “But that would be very rough on you—to be tied to a man—” He broke off and was silent for a moment before he looked up at her with grave tenderness. “Ruth dear, is it quite hopeless?”