“Perhaps I did. And I am sorry for that. But you see, I didn’t quite know about Paul—oh, I ought to have known. But you all said he would never come back. Father said so. Poor Father! I am sorry for him.”
“Do you mean to tell me, Peggy, that you are deliberately throwing over Guy for this——” Her mother paused, breathless.
“For Paul? I am not throwing over Guy. I never accepted Guy, whatever you and Father may have done or understood.”
“And you mean to marry this boy, with all his horrid connections?”
“Mamma,” cried Peg, “if Paul asks me to marry him I will. I would take on the whole lot of them if Paul would ask me.”
“You shameless girl!” exclaimed her mother, in a fury of contempt.
“Of course, he hasn’t asked me. You see, Adelina told him I was engaged to Guy—I got that out of her. And he, poor boy!—you know his queer notions of honour and conscience and all that sort of thing—it would be like him to go off without a word, even if he broke his heart over it.”
Her mother sniffed audibly and contemptuously.
“But I won’t let him,” continued Peg joyously. “Do you think I could do that, now that I know he loves me? Oh, he is a silly boy! I know he meant to come here tonight and play the noble, self-controlled, high-minded gentleman, see me taken up with Guy, and, making no sign, then go away, and that sort of stuff that all the silly men do in books. But the moment he looked at me he forgot himself, forgot everything but me. His eyes, his dear blue-grey eyes, told me everything. That’s why I kissed him, Mamma. How could I help it? And now he is bracing himself up to go away without a word. And he will if I let him. But I’m not going to let him go. I’m going to let him ask me—make him ask me—oh, Mamma, I am shameless, but I am happy, so happy, happy, my heart is just bursting, mad with joy! For Paul is the only man in the world I have ever loved or can love.”
The girl was standing with her back to the dining-room door, her hands clasped over her heart, her face uplifted and radiant as light, her eyes glowing through a mist of tears, her voice low and vibrant with the passion of her love. As she uttered these last words the dining-room door was opened and in it stood Paul, with the others close behind him. The girl, following her mother’s horrified gaze, faced swiftly about and stood aghast. A rush of crimson dyed her face, her neck, her bosom, then faded, leaving her pale, shrinking, overwhelmed, speechless. As her eyes found Paul’s face she drew herself erect, with head thrown back, waiting. For one instant Paul stood motionless, his eyes devouring her lovely face, then, with swift steps, he was at her side, on his knees, her hand clasped in both of his, his lips pressed to her fingers.