“Yes, I know,” he said hurriedly. “That’s pretty hard, poor baby! But don’t think, in spite of all that’s happened, don’t think I’m not sorry for you. Sometimes, when I think about how unhappy and lonely you are, it drives me wild. I have to go to the theatre, or play polo, or do something to make me forget it. There’s one thought that always consoles me, however, and that is that you’ll be well rid of such a scamp as I am. I’ve been a brute to you, Mimi, and one thing that brought me here was to ask you to forgive me.”
“There’s nothing to forgive, Bertie; I’ve never had one hard feeling toward you,” she answered in a low and resolutely steadied voice.
“That’s because you’re an angel on earth, not because I haven’t treated you abominably. I know it and confess it freely, but I hate to think about it.”
“Then don’t think about it, our last evening together.”
The words almost choked her, and he saw her throat swell; he saw, too, that she was making a tremendous effort not to cry. They had sat down in two chairs in front of the fire, and were looking away from each other. After a short silence the man turned toward her, compelling her, by his persistent gaze, to turn her eyes to his. Then he said:
“It isn’t natural for us to sit together like this. You used to—” He smiled and laid his hand on his knee. She came at once and took the seat, and when she had done so, he lifted one of her arms and laid it around his neck. Then he laughed—a low laugh of appreciative amusement.
“I’m sure I don’t know whether this is proper or not,” he said, “and I suppose you can’t inform me. By Jove, this is a situation! Come, Mim, I always said you had no sense of humor, but you can’t help seeing the fun of this!”
The poor child tried her best to smile, but perhaps his accusation of her was not unjust, for the effect was a complete failure, and she had to hide her face against his neck to conceal the fact that tears had come instead of smiles.
“Don’t try to make me laugh,” she said; “if you do, I’m sure to cry, and I do not want to do that. It always made you angry to see me cry.”
“All right, then, we won’t laugh or cry either. We’ll just be sensible, and you’ll show me what a little brick you really are. You’ve acted in a way already to win a tremendous respect from me. You can just remember that. I don’t know another woman who’d have behaved as well. And, now, let me show you something. Don’t move, it’s just here in my pocket. I had such a sweet idea the other day. You see,” he went on, as she sat up to look, “I knew you’d feel badly about leaving off the ring, when—when the time comes, so I’ve got you another—not plain gold, of course, but one you can always wear, in place of it, for my sake. Isn’t it a little beauty?” He opened his hand and showed her a ring set with two very perfect pearls, one white and one black.