He paused for a few instants, but Vivienne, who was listening with eager, breathless interest urged him on.
“I employ detectives, advertise——” and he stopped again.
“It must cost a great deal of money,” she said. “But why did my father go away? What was it that he did?”
“I will not explain the whole thing to you to-night, you are too much wrought up already. I will simply say that your father was accused of forgery. I believe he found himself in the position of an innocent man who cannot prove that he is not guilty. Being of a timid disposition he ran away.”
“And left me.”
“And left you,” repeated Armour, “to me. He knew that I would take care of you; and in his fatherly affection he would not have your name coupled with his dishonored one. He wishes to be considered dead, and so he is by every one here but myself and one or two others.”
“There is an immense load off my mind,” said Vivienne, laying a hand on her breast; “but I am not happy yet.”
“You will not be happy till you give up your will to mine,” said Armour persuasively. “You will marry me?”
“No, no; never,” she said, with eyes devouring every line of his face. “I will never marry a man who does not love me as I love him. Yet—yet just for to-night let me imagine that you love me, that you worship me. Let me draw your dear head on my shoulder like this,” and suddenly going behind his chair she flung her arms around his neck. “Let me smooth back your hair and tell you that I love you, love you, and yet I can never marry you. For the last time I will kiss you——”
“There never was a first time,” murmured Armour, who, nevertheless, was deeply moved by her emotion.