“I am not going to stay at La Solitude long,” she went on. “I’ve been thinking for some days that after you were gone I would make an arrangement with the Convalescent Home—they’ll be glad for me to stay there for a while.”
He felt utterly dismayed. “Do not punish my poor father and mother for my evil deeds! Lily, that would not be like you—that would be most cruel and ungenerous! Most humbly do I beg your pardon. But—but, Lily, forgive me if I ask you—you do admit that I love you, do you not?”
There was a long pause. And then Lily said, “Yes, Beppo, I do believe you love me—though you show your love in what seems to me a very strange way.”
Her frankness took him completely by surprise—and somehow gave him hope.
“If I were to go away,” he said suddenly, “and then come back after a long time, is there any, any hope that I might find you different?”
She shook her head, and then, for the first time, she burst into tears.
Beppo stopped the car. He took her hand—very gently this time.
“Lily,” he exclaimed, “I shall never, never forgive myself for what happened to-day! Some demon whispered in my ear that if you would allow me to kiss you all would come right. It was a foolish and an arrogant thought. But I was going away—and, Lily, you admit that you know I love you!”
“Yes,” she said in a low tone. “I do know that. But let us try to forget what happened to-day—we have been so happy, so comfortable together, since you came to La Solitude!”
“Do you think you will ever feel happy and comfortable with me again?” he asked.