"Oh," she cried hastily, "I was afraid, after all, Teddy would not tell you one thing—"
"It can't matter in the least, dear Doris. What I want to ask your father is simply his blessing on us both in our engage—"
"For pity's sake, no! Listen, Alan; and don't think too unkindly of me, for I have promised to marry Mr. Bullard—"
"Doris!"
"—a year from now." She bowed her head.
He was on his feet, standing over her. "Bullard!" he exclaimed at last, "Bullard! Good Lord, Doris! Had that fat successful gambler actually the impudence to ask you to marry him?"
"Oh, hush!" she whispered. "The fact remains that I gave my promise."
He drew a long breath. "Of course you gave your promise, and the reason's plain enough to me! You gave it for your father's sake!" As in a flash he saw what she had suffered. Teddy's story had told him much, but this! … His heart swelled, overflowed with that which is so akin to love that in the moment of stress it is love's double.
And this young man, casting aside his doubts of himself, caught in a passion evoked by beauty in distress and hot human sympathy, fell on his knees, murmuring endearments, and took this young woman, with all her doubts of herself, to his breast.
And Doris let herself go. Doubts or no doubts, right or wrong, it was sweet and comforting, after long wearing anxiety and arid loneliness, to find refuge in the strong, gentle arms of one who cared. But it was a lull that could not last.