“Yes, John; but not like that. I couldn’t promise that. I never thought you cared like that.”
“How did you think I cared?” he asked, passionately; “in a grandfatherly way like Roger?”
“I do not know,” she answered sadly; “you were so good to me, and I liked you. I didn’t think.”
“Will you think now?” he asked, gently. “Will you think and tell me?”
“When?”
“As soon as you know yourself. I will wait years and years.”
“Yes, I will tell you as soon as I know myself,” she promised.
“Then I will wait. You are worth waiting for.”
“John, ought I to tell Marion?”
“No. Do not tell anybody. It is my secret. You haven’t any secret. Nobody need ever know, I will never be pitied.”