Than never to have loved at all.”
She knew all that love would mean to her if once she should gain it; and to lose it would leave her bankrupt indeed. And this love which Will Venners was proffering her—how did she know, how could she be certain that it would be firm and stable? How did she know that it would last?
She sat still and white in the moonlight, and Will’s hand held hers and his eyes were fixed upon her pale, calm face.
“Jessie,” he whispered, softly, bending his handsome head a little nearer, “you surely are not altogether indifferent to me? Surely you care a little for me, or have I been a conceited fool to imagine such a thing possible? I have thought of you by night and day; I wrote to you, but received no reply; I have thought and thought, and tried to find some way to your heart, but you have seemed so cold, and hard, and stern, that I began to despair. And then I concluded to go away; to leave you and the sight of you forever; to say good-bye to my home here, and return no more. For it all seemed so hopeless—this love of mine. But at the last moment my courage failed me. I must see you and tell you good-bye, even though you spurn me from you, Jessie. I leave it all in your hands—my life—my love—my future. What are you going to do with me?”
She lifted her eyes to his face. Strange that she could not still that unquiet voice in her heart which kept whispering of perfidy and deception, and reminding her of the endless flirtations in which Will Venners had engaged until he was past master in the art.
“Answer me, Jessie!” he pleaded, softly, “do you care—or——”
He never finished, for across his words there came a strange interruption. A wild shriek resounded through the silence—a piercing, awful shriek. It came from the house—from the upper windows, not far from where the two were sitting—from Mrs. Yorke’s chamber. Jessie started to her feet, pale and trembling.
“It is Mrs. Yorke!” she cried. “Oh, heavens! what has happened? I ought not to have left her so long. Let me go, Captain Venners—let me go!” (for he had caught her hand as though to detain her). “I should not have left my post so long. Let me go, Will, darling!”
The last word scarcely articulated as she wrenched her hand from his eager clasp. But softly as the word was faltered forth, Will heard it; he dropped the little hand, but not until he had hastily pressed it to his lips.
Like a wild creature, Jessie fled to the house, followed by Will, in no very enviable frame of mind. In after years, looking back upon that moment, Will Venners was wont to say that only the thought of the lone whispered word that Jessie had let fall had kept him from some desperate deed.