“Confound the Hepburn line! Enough have been made miserable on account of it, and I don’t propose to be added to the number, nor do I believe much in it, either. Aleck does not believe in it at all, and we are going to look up the law without Aunt Kizzy’s knowledge. She is so cursed proud and reticent, too, or she would have found out for herself before this time whether we are likely to be beggared or not. And even if the lease holds good, don’t you suppose that a great strapping fellow like me can take care of himself and four women?”
As he had never yet done anything but spend money, it seemed doubtful to Doris whether he could do anything or not. But she did not care. The fact that he loved her, that he held her in his arms and was covering her face with kisses, was enough for the present, and for a few moments Aunt Kizzy’s wrath and the Hepburn line were forgotten, while she abandoned herself to her great happiness. Then she remembered, and, releasing herself from Grant, stood up before him and told him that it could not be.
“I am not ashamed to confess that I love you,” she said, “and the knowing that you love me will always make me happier. But you are bound to Thea, and I will never separate you from her or bring ruin upon your family. I will go away, as I said, and never come again until you and Thea are married.”
She was backing from the summer-house as she talked, and so absorbed were she and Grant both that neither saw nor heard anything until, having reached the door, Doris backed into Thea’s arms.
“Hello!” was her characteristic exclamation, as she looked curiously at Doris and then at Grant, who, greatly confused, had risen to his feet, “And so I have caught you,” she continued, “and I suppose you think I am angry; but I am not. I am glad, as it makes easier what I am going to tell you. Sit down, Grant, and hear me,” she continued authoritatively, as she saw him moving towards the doorway, opposite to where she stood, still holding Doris tightly. “Sit down, and let’s have it out, like sensible people who have been mistaken and discovered their mistake in time. I know you love Doris, and I know she loves you, and she just suits you, for she is beautiful and sweet and fresh, while I am neither; I am homely, and fast, and slangy, and sometimes loud and forward.”
“Oh, Thea, Thea, you are not all this,” Doris cried.
But Thea went on: “Yes, I am; Aleck says so, and he knows, and that is why I like him so much. He tells me my faults straight out, which Grant never did. He simply endured me because he felt that he must, until he saw you, and then it was not in the nature of things that I could keep him any longer. I have seen it, and so has Aleck; and this morning, under the great elm in the far part of the grounds, we came to an understanding, and I told the great, awkward, ugly Aleck that I loved him better than I ever loved Grant; and I do,—I do!”
She was half crying, and breathing hard, and with each breath was severing some link which had bound her to Grant, who for once felt as awkward as Aleck himself, and stood abashed before the young girl who was so boldly declaring her preference for another. What could he say? he asked himself. He surely could not remonstrate with her, or protest against what would make him so happy, and so he kept silent, while brushing the tears from her eyes, she continued, “I don’t know when it began, or how, only it did begin, and now I don’t care how ugly he is, nor how big his feet and hands are. He is just as good as he can be, and I am going to marry him. There!”
She stopped, quite out of breath, and looked at Doris, whose face was very white, and whose voice trembled as she said:
“But, Thea, have you forgotten the lease?”