“No,” she replied, curiously; and he hastened to explain:
“I did not come because I was afraid of falling in love with you.”
Mae started with surprise and confusion, the long lashes drooping to her crimson cheeks, while Florian continued:
“I was afraid of falling in love with you, because I found you almost irresistible, and I thought myself in honor bound to another whom I had loved before I ever met you. But now I am free from that fancied bond, and perhaps I ought to tell you all about it before I risk my fate with you. Do you care to listen, little one?” tenderly.
“Yes; oh, yes,” she smiled encouragingly, her young heart throbbing wildly with a strange, new joy.
Thereupon Florian valiantly rehearsed for her benefit the story of his eventful love affair with Viola, taking due blame to himself for his hasty revenge that had recoiled so heavily on his own heart.
“When I came to my senses and longed to make reparation for my folly, she had recklessly bound herself to another,” he said. “But when death so soon snapped that bond, I resolved to try my fate again, holding myself loyally bound to her if she cared to take me. I still loved her madly until—those days when you gave me the sittings for your portrait, when I found my allegiance wavering under the spell of your charms, until I saw that to be true to Viola I must avoid you. I did so until her year of widowhood was so nearly ended that I thought I might propose without giving offense. This was several weeks ago, and a while ago I received her answer—a very kind rejection.”
“Oh!” cried Mae.
“A rejection,” repeated Florian, frankly; and added: “But it did not hurt me so badly as might have been expected, because you had divided my thoughts with her so long that on reading her letter my heart quickly rebounded from the blow and turned with a new, sweet hope to you.”
What a strange wooing this was, thought Mae, who did not relish taking the half of a heart only; and she cried in pique: