“I never led you on!” I cried vainly. “I was only nice to you as I would have been to anyone else. I knew you liked me; but everyone who is kind and attentive does not want to marry one as a matter of course. It would be horrid to expect it. Lorna is my friend, and you are her brother, so of course—”
He looked me full in the face and said slowly—
“It will be difficult to believe—but if you will tell me just once quite simply and plainly, I will take your word, Una. Don’t protest, please—tell me truthfully, once for all: did you, or did you not, know I loved you with all my heart?”
I wanted to say “No.” In a sense I could have said it truthfully enough, for I had no definite knowledge, but I remembered what Lorna had told me about the heroine in the novel; I remembered Mrs Forbes’s wistful manner, and oh, a dozen little incidents too small to be written down, when Wallace’s own manner had told the truth only too plainly. He was staring at me, poor boy, with his wan, miserable eyes, and I could not tell a lie. I began to cry in a feeble, helpless kind of way, and faltered out, “I—I thought you did, but I couldn’t be sure. You know I couldn’t be sure, and it was only for a little while! I am going home so soon that I didn’t think it could matter.”
He leant forward, leaning his head on his hands.
“Shall I tell you how much it matters?” he asked huskily. “It matters just this, that you have spoilt my life! There was not a happier, more contented fellow living than I was—before you came. I loved my work, and loved my home. I intended to succeed in my profession, and the future was full of interest. I would not have changed places with any man on earth. Now!” he held out his right hand and snapped his fingers expressively, “it is over; the zest is out of it all if you are not there. If I had met you anywhere else it might have been easier, but you have come right into the middle of my life, and if I would I shall not be able to forget you. Every morning when I come down to breakfast I shall look across the table and imagine you sitting facing me; I shall see you wherever I go—like a ghost—in every room in the house, in everything I do. That is the price I have to pay for your amusement. You have made a fool of me, you whom I thought the type of everything that was true and womanly. You knew that I loved you, but it didn’t matter to you what I suffered. You were going home soon—you would not see it. It didn’t matter!”
“No, no, no!” I cried in agony. “It isn’t true. I am bad enough, but not a heartless monster. I will tell you the whole truth. I was miserable myself when I came here; ill and tired out, and sore because—because they didn’t care for me at home as much as I wanted. I always want people to like me. I did at school—Lorna will tell you that I did; and when you were nice to me it cheered me up, and made me happy again. I never dreamt that it was serious until a little time ago—last week—and even then I did not think you could possibly want to marry me—you were too young—you had no home—”
“No, that is true. I am no match for Miss Sackville. I was a fool to forget it. Thank you for reminding me,” he interrupted bitterly.
Poor boy—oh, poor boy, he looked so miserable—it made me ache to see his white, changed face. He looked so handsome, too; so much more of a man than he had ever done before. I looked at him and wondered why it was that I could not care for him as he wished. Had I been too hasty in deciding that it was impossible? He wanted me, and no one else did; and it would be nice to be engaged and have someone to love me best of all. Perhaps I should grow to love him too; I always do like people who like me; and Lorna would be so pleased. She would be my real sister, and could come and stay with me in my own home. I was so upset and miserable, so stung by Wallace’s taunt about his poverty, that I was just in the mind to be reckless. His hand lay limply by his side, and in a sudden gush of tenderness and pity I slid my arm beneath it and said softly, “Don’t be cross with me! I never thought for one moment if you were poor or rich. That doesn’t matter a bit. If I have made you miserable, I am miserable too. If you want me to be engaged to you—I will, and I’ll try to like you. Please, please do not look like that! If I promise it will be all right, and you will forgive me for being so thoughtless, won’t you, Wallace?”
He turned his head and stared at me steadily. The anger died out of his face, but he looked dreadfully sad.