“Were they—pretty?”
It was impossible to resist the smile which twitched at his lips. Unpleasant as was the nature of his errand, he, the most unsmiling of men, had already twice over been moved to merriment. Stephen was reflecting on the incongruity of the fact, when Pixie again answered his unspoken retort.
“It’s not curiosity, it’s interest. Quite a different thing! And even if they were, it’s much more serious when a man cares for a girl for her—er—mental attractions, because they go on getting better, instead of fading away like a pretty face. It’s very difficult to know what is right. ... I’ve promised Stanor, and he has promised me, and it seems a poor way of showing that you know your own mind, to break your word at the beginning!”
“I don’t ask you to break your word, Miss O’Shaughnessy; only to hold it in abeyance. I am speaking in Stanor’s interests, which we have equally at heart. I know his character—forgive me!—better than you can do, and I am asking you to help me in arranging a probation which I know to be wise under the circumstances. Let him go to New York a free man; let him work and show his mettle, and at the end of two years, if you are both of the same mind, I will give you every help in my power: but meantime there must be no engagement, no tie, no regular correspondence. You must both be perfectly free. I am sorry to appear hard-hearted, but these are my conditions, and I can’t see my way to alter them.”
“Well—why not?” cried Pixie unexpectedly. “What’s two years? They’ll pass in no time. And men hate writing. Stanor will be relieved not to have to bother about the mails. He can do without letters. He will know that I am waiting.” She held out her hand with a sudden, radiant smile. “And you will be pleased! It is the least we can do to consider your wishes. If I persuade Stanor—if I send him away alone to work,” the small fingers tightened ingratiatingly over his, “you will like me, won’t you? You will think of me as a real niece?”
Stephen Glynn’s deep blue eyes stared deeply into hers. He did not deliberately intend to put his thoughts into speech; if he had given himself a moment to think he would certainly not have done so, but so strong was the mental conviction that the words seemed to form themselves without his volition.
“You don’t love him! You could not face a separation so easily if you loved him as you should...”
For the first time a flash of real anger showed itself on Pixie’s face. Her features hardened; the child disappeared and he caught a glimpse of the woman that was to be.
“What right have you to say that?” she asked deeply. “You prove to me that it would be for Stanor’s good to wait, and then say I cannot love him because I agree! You love him, yet you can hurt him and bring him disappointment when you feel it is right. I understood that, so I was not angry, but in return you might understand me!”
“Forgive me!” cried Stephen. “I should not have said it. You deserved a better return for your kindness. I suppose I must seem very illogical, but it did not occur to me that the two cases were on a parallel. The love of a fiancée is not as a rule as well balanced as that of an uncle, Miss O’Shaughnessy!”