At first Arthur told himself it was pity for her loneliness that actuated him to be always at her side, to make time pass pleasantly for her. He realized, when it was too late, that pity had deepened into a mighty love. And he told himself, in his despair, as the truth forced itself upon him, that he loved her.
The truth came to him like a great shock. He went to Eugene Mallard, and told him he must go away at once. It would have been better if he had told him why; but he did not.
"I will not listen to such a thing!" cried Eugene. "You have promised to stay until the shooting season, and I will hold you to your word."
In vain he pleaded. But Eugene was obdurate.
"There is no good reason for your hurrying away," said Eugene.
"Then you want me to stay, no matter what happens?" replied his friend, quickly.
"Yes," replied Eugene Mallard; and he thought of Arthur's words for many a day afterward.
Arthur Hollis tried to reason with himself, saying that it was better to go. But he was like the moth, who felt insensibly attracted toward the flame, drawing nearer and nearer, until, like the moth, he would perish in it.
After his conversation with Eugene, he proceeded to shut his eyes to the danger.
He was a free-lance. No woman's face had ever touched his heart before, and he was frightened at the intensity of the love that thrilled his heart for beautiful Ida Mallard.