Perhaps it had been so with her—yet she had loved him—she had thrilled to the passion in his boyish voice, to the love in his boyish, ardent eyes. A child's love, a school girl's love, her father had said. "My dear child, I'm a man of the world and you are a young Miss who has only just learned to do her back hair up; accept it from me, the person who marries his or her first love lives to regret it. First love is merely a kind of preliminary canter, it's good exercise, provided you don't take it too seriously, but if you do take it seriously why then it is the deuce and all."
She smiled to herself, recalling her father's words. It had been her first love and her only love, it had lived with her for ten years and during those ten years it had seemed to her to have grown stronger, better, purer. It had perhaps made her a little cold to the world about her, yet in reality it had made her heart more tender, had made her more prone to sympathy and tenderness and kindness.
Why had he come, why had he come back? She clenched her hands tightly.
The few short months of her married life with Allan had been quiet and peaceful, uneventful, happy, yes happy! she had always liked him, she liked him better now than she had before he had given his name to her.
She liked him better and yet better every day, she liked him because he confided in her, because he was honest and open with her, because while he lavished no caresses on her, for would not caresses have been humbug and hypocrisy, he gave her a quiet affection and respect that won her heart to him. He had told her of his plans with old Custance, how he would make money and help repay his father a little of the much that his father had done for them both.
And then he had promised once that if ever—ever love came to him, the love that nearly always comes knocking at a man's heart at some time in his life, he would tell her candidly and truthfully and they would face the fact together. And she for her part had promised that she would tell him if—the lover of long ago should come back into her life.
And he had come, and so she must tell him, as she had promised to do; she must be honest and truthful with Allan, surely he deserved that of her.
There was a tap on the door and Kathleen rose and opened it.
"My lady, 'ee'll be wanting me? I've been waiting for the bell, my lady, but 'ee didn't ring it."
"No, Betty, I didn't ring, but—but come in. Betty, what is the matter?"