Why, then, did not her heart respond, her pulses quicken, to his impassioned appeal?
She could not tell; she was simply appalled, breathless, almost paralyzed by his words.
"Oh," she faltered, when he ceased speaking, "why did you come?"
A groan of agony escaped him at this involuntary betrayal of her attitude toward him. His hands clenched convulsively, then dropped heavily to his sides; the veins swelled out full and hard upon his forehead.
"Because I could not keep away. Because, ever since that day when you bade me try to live, start out anew and make my mark in the world, I have had but one aim—one overmastering desire in life—to make myself worthy of your esteem; to win an irreproachable name and position in the world to offer you, and atone, if ever so little, for what I made you suffer during those dreadful years of our early life. It was you who aroused the dormant spark of manhood within me; now let me share with you the fruits of that awakening. Oh, Helen! I honor, reverence—I love you as never before; let me prove it."
The man's voice, which had grown hoarse and painfully intense during this appeal, suddenly broke and became almost inaudible as he ended his appeal.
Helen was also deeply moved. A great trembling seized her; the room began to grow dark; she swayed dizzily where she stood, and then sank weakly upon a near-by chair, but involuntarily throwing out a repelling hand, as John sprang forward to her assistance.
He paused abruptly, at her gesture, as if he had received a mortal blow. Was his presence so repulsive to her that she could not endure to have him come near her?
For the moment he was crushed, humiliated beyond the power of speech; then he slowly drew himself erect, his chest heaving with a long, shuddering breath as he strove to recover something of self-possession.
"Helen!" the name burst sharply from his hueless lips; "that means that I have asked too much—that you cannot——"