She loved Dr. Lake.
“No, sir, thank you; I am out for a walk and when I walk I never ride.”
“But I want to talk to you—to tell you something.” She stepped nearer and stood at the carriage wheel; his voice was sharp and his white temples hollow. “Sue has refused me,” he began with a laugh. “I proposed last night, and what do you think she said? ‘Why, Dr. Lake, you are poor, and you smell of medicine.’”
“They are both true,” she said, not conscious of what reply she was making.
“Yes,” he answered bitterly, “they are both true and will be true until the end of time. Don’t you think that you could reason with her and change her mind; you have influence.” He laid his gloved hand on the hand that rested on the wheel. “It will kill me, Mystic, if she doesn’t marry me.”
So weak, so pitiful! She could have cried. And all for love of flighty Sue Greyson!
“I was sure that she would accept me. She has done every thing but accept me. I did not know that a woman would permit a man to take her day after day into his arms and kiss her unless she intended to marry him. Would you permit that?” he asked.
“You know that I would not,” she answered proudly; “but Sue doesn’t know any better; all she cares for is the ‘fun’ of the moment.”
“I have been hoping so long; since Towne went away; I can’t bear this.”
“There is as much strength for you as for any of us,” she said gently.