“Why, Betty dear!” He caught her and kissed her and laughed at her and comforted her all at once. “Not tears, dear? Tears to greet me? You didn’t half greet me last evening, and I came only to see you. Now you will, where there’s no one to see and no one to hear? Yes. Never mind the spilled milk, you know better than that.” But Betty lay in his arms, a little crumpled wisp of sorrow, white and still.
“Away off there in Cheyenne I got to thinking of you, and I went to headquarters and asked to be sent on this commission just to get the chance to run up here and tell you I have been waiting all these years for you to grow up. You have haunted me ever since I left Leauvite. You darling, your laughing face was always with me, on the march––in prison––and wherever I’ve been since. I’ve been trying to keep myself right––for you––so I might dare some day to take you in my arms like this and tell you––so I need not be ashamed before your––”
“Oh, Richard, wait!” wailed Betty, but he would not wait.
“I’ve waited long enough. I see you are grown up before I even dreamed you could be. Thank heaven I came now! You are so sweet some one would surely have won you away from me––but no one can now––no one.”
“Richard, why didn’t you tell me this when you first 128 came home from the war––before you went to Scotland? I would––”
“Not then, sweetheart; I couldn’t. I didn’t even know then I would ever be worth the love of any woman; and––you were such a child then––I couldn’t intrude my weariness––my worn-out self on you. I was sick at heart when I got out of that terrible prison; but now it is all changed. I am my own man now, dependent on no one, and able to marry you out of hand, Betty, dear. After you’ve told me something, I’ll do whatever you say, wait as long as you say. No, no! Listen! Don’t break away from me. You don’t hate me as you do the cat. I haven’t been running under your feet all the time, have I, dear? Listen. See here, my arms are strong now. They can hold you forever, just like this. I’ve been thinking of you and dreaming of you and loving you through these years. You have never been out of my mind nor out of my heart. I’ve kept the little housewife you made me and bound with your cherry-colored hair ribbon until it is in rags, but I love it still. I love it. They took everything I had about me at the prison; but this––they gave back to me. It was the only thing I begged them to leave me.”
Poor little Betty! She tried to speak and tried again, but she could not utter a word. Her mouth grew dry and her knees would not support her. Richard was so big and strong he did not feel her weight, and only delighted in the thought that she resigned herself to him. “Darling little Betty! Darling little Betty! You do understand, don’t you? Won’t you tell me you do?”
But she only closed her eyes and lay quite still. She longed to lift her arms and put them about his neck, and 129 the effort not to do so only crushed her spirit the more. Now she knew she was bad, and unworthy such a great love as this. She had let Peter Junior kiss her, and she had told him she loved him––and it was nothing to this. She was not good; she was unworthy, and all the angels in heaven could never bring her comfort any more. She was so still he put his cheek to hers, and it seemed as if she moaned, and that without a sound.
“Have I hurt you, Betty, dear?”
“Oh, no, Richard, no.”