But Dick remained kneeling in the grass where he was. It seemed to him as if he had been in some strange land remote from this common life, and he shrank from contact with the ordinary day and its ordinary doings.
“I can't, Margaret,” he said. “You go. Let me fight it out.”
She knew too well where he was. “No, Dick, I will not leave you here. Come, do.” She went quickly to him, kneeled down, put her arms about his neck and kissed him. “Help me, Dick,” she whispered.
It was the word he needed. He threw his arms about her, kissed her once, and then, as if seized with a frenzy of passion, he kissed, again and again, her hair, her face, her hands, her lips, murmuring in hoarse, passionate tones, “I love you! I love you!” For a few moments she suffered him, and then gently pushed him back and drew apart from him. Her action recalled him to himself.
“Forgive me, Margaret,” he cried brokenly, “I'm a great, selfish brute. I think only of myself. Now I'm ready to go. And when I weaken again, don't think me quite a cad.”
He sprang up, threw back his shoulders as if adjusting them to a load, gave her his hand, and lifted her up, and together they set off down the lane, the shadow a little lighter as each felt the other near.
X
FOR A LADY'S HONOUR
“Are you going to Trinity convocation tomorrow?” asked Dr. Bulling of Iola.