“Yes—certainly.”
“Are you glad you can go, then?” [[214]]
“Of course; why should I hang about here any longer now that I can get a situation?”
He scarcely thought of what he said. He fell back in the Persian cushions, and a maze of bright-hued visions rose before his mind. He remembered his former life of endless change, of ever-changing perspective and glimmering horizon—change was life, change it was that would cure, that would rejuvenate him.
Eline, however, felt deep pity for Vincent. Yes, indeed, he was very pleased that he could go, before her wedding most likely, so that he need not be witness of what to him was probably a very painful sight. Yes, indeed he loved her—and suffered accordingly.
“Vincent,” she said at last.
“Well?”
“Vincent, really—just think about it, don’t be too rash—you are still so weak. Suppose you should have a relapse? Ask Reyer’s advice first.”
“But, Elly, haven’t I always been as I am now? I never was robust, and—and you don’t want to keep me; besides, and what if I do stay here?” he asked with a smile.
To her that smile seemed sad and forced, and she reproached herself for endeavouring to keep him there. No, he must go; only, maybe perhaps things would change—change so that he need not go at all. She felt giddy, and it all began to dance and shimmer before her eyes—the thought that rose to her mind, she dared not think. It would be too terrible. Too terrible for Otto, too terrible also for herself. That day, when Otto came, Eline felt, instead of the usually so grateful warmth which his presence had at one time called forth in her heart, nothing but an icy indifference. Oh, God, how did that come about, how did that warmth chill down like that? She did not know, but so it was, and she had not the power to change it. She gave him a friendly nod, and held out her hand to him. She could not look him in the face, but her heart was deeply moved with pity. There he stood, Otto, by her side, his gentle, kindly glance fixed upon her, her hand in his, as he leaned against the back of her chair. Yes, there he stood by her side, he full of love, and she—she felt nothing but cold, chilly indifference! No, a thousand times no! it might not, it should not be, she would force herself, she pitied him too much.