“Did she say so?”
“No, she didn't say anything, scarcely—not at the last. She didn't cry, either; I almost wish she had. Oh, Hosy, don't ask me any more questions than you have to. I can't bear to answer 'em.”
She paused and turned away.
“How she must hate us!” I said, after a moment.
“Why, no—why, no, Hosy, I don't think she does; at least I'm tryin' to hope she doesn't. I softened it all I could. I told her why we took her with us in the first place; how we couldn't tell her the truth at first, or leave her, either, when she was so sick and alone. I told her why we brought her here, hopin' it would make her well and strong, and how, after she got that way, we put off tellin' her because it was such a dreadful hard thing to do. Hard! When I think of her sittin' there, white as a sheet, and lookin' at me with those big eyes of hers, her fingers twistin' and untwistin' in her lap—a way her mother used to have when she was troubled—and every word I spoke soundin' so cruel and—and—”
She paused once more. I did not speak. Soon she recovered and went on.
“I told her that I was tellin' her these things now because the misunderstandin's and all the rest had to stop and there was no use puttin' off any longer. I told her I loved her as if she was my very own and that this needn't make the least bit of difference unless she wanted it to. I said you felt just the same. I told her your speakin' to that Heathcroft man was only for her good and for no other reason. You'd learned that he was engaged to be married—”
“You told her that?” I interrupted, involuntarily. “What did she say?”
“Nothin', nothin' at all. I think she heard me and understood, but she didn't say anything. Just sat there, white and trembling and crushed, sort of, and looked and looked at me. I wanted to put my arms around her and ask her pardon and beg her to love me as I did her, but I didn't dare—I didn't dare. I did say that you and I would be only too glad to have her stay with us always, as one of the family, you know. If she'd only forget all the bad part that had gone and do that, I said—but she interrupted me. She said 'Forget!' and the way she said it made me sure she never would forget. And then—and then she asked me if I would please go away and leave her. Would I PLEASE not say any more now, but just leave her, only leave her alone. So I came away and—and that's all.”
“That's all,” I repeated. “It is enough, I should say. Oh, Hephzy, why did you do it? Why couldn't it have gone on as it has been going? Why did you do it?”