Was there anybody else in the village? True, young Tom Applin had come round with an obviously serious intent, but Janet had very soon shown him that she did not care for him. There were others, but, as she had never encouraged them in any way whatever, they did not suggest themselves as a reason for her refusal of Nat Holway. The only excuse she would give was that she did not care sufficiently about Nat to marry him.
“But, Janet, you’ve always given us to understand——” commenced Mrs. Gray.
“Oh, but that was when we were children.”
“No, Janet, that is not quite true. It’s not so long ago that I was talking of you both settling down, and it didn’t seem but what you favoured the idea.”
Janet did not answer, but shut herself in her room and, unlocking a drawer, took out of it a little jewelled trinket which young Gascoyne had given her, and kissing it passionately, burst into a flood of tears. The poor girl vaguely realised, if she refused to confess as much to herself, that her romance was doomed to a dismal ending. Though she loved Harry Gascoyne she had some dim perception that the glitter of his charm was largely pinchbeck. She also realised with true feminine instinct that she had thrown away the only weapon with which she might have won her battle, and induced him to raise her to his position by marriage. She was already terrified of what might happen, and lay awake at nights possessed by the fear of an approaching presence. She was haunted by the singing of the wind in the pine-wood where they had first kissed, and stronger and stronger through the sad, sweet music came the wailing of an infant.
Young Gascoyne was almost as frightened as she at what he had done, and his true character asserted itself. He positively throbbed with selfishness. He poured out his woes to me at length. He would begin with some stereotyped recognition of the girl’s position, thrown in for the sake of mere decency, but after that it was all about the awkwardness of the affair as it would affect himself.
“I’m not a coward, old chap, and I don’t mind a good stand-up fight. I can take a licking as well as any other man, and bear no grudge.”
This I doubted, and set it down as merely the boastful jargon learnt at a public school.
“But I don’t quite see having to fight the whole lot of them.”
“They look awkward customers.”