"Captain Torrance—" she began.
He interrupted. "I have no right to be called so. I forfeited the honour when, years ago, I was allowed to resign my commission instead of being deprived of it. Old acquaintances use it out of mistaken courtesy. From your lips it comes as a reproach; not that you would deem it such, but conscience reminds me that the time is long past when I could honestly claim the title as a servant of my Queen and country."
"I want you to listen for a few moments," he added; and before Kathleen could assent or otherwise, he was pouring into her ear the story of his past life—"so far as he could tell it to a girl."
Kathleen listened as if fascinated, alas! with more of sympathy than repulsion, and at length the speaker closed with these words—
"I have told you all. I have lost my ample fortune; lost the good name my father left me, deeming it my best heritage. I am a ruined man, and worse, for I have robbed my boy of all that ought to have descended to him. Monk's How is only mine on sufferance, and a very few months hence I must turn my back upon it for ever, and seek a refuge for Ralph and myself in some far-away land, where no one will be able to remind him of his father's follies and sins. Yet once my life and home were blessed by an angel's presence. I had the whole-hearted love of one of the sweetest women that ever lived, and she died believing in me."
"I am so sorry—so very sorry!" said Kathleen, as John Torrance's voice died into silence and he rose to leave her. "Is there nothing that can be done?"
"Ask yourself, Miss Mountford."
Kathleen could not reply, and he continued: "There is only one way of salvation for me. Were my Adela living, and as she was, when, with every advantage of family, fortune, and beauty, she became my wife, I, with my present experience, could look forward with confidence to a new and better life. But how could any other girl risk her future with that of a ruined spendthrift? If there were one so noble, so unselfish, as to stoop in order to raise John Torrance from the mire into which he has fallen, others would step in to save her from her too rash generosity. I would die a beggar by the roadside sooner than I would be guilty of the crime of asking her for such a sacrifice; even though I could say, as indeed I can, that I love her with all the strength of my being. My love for Adela was selfish, though sincere. I will not be selfish a second time."
The man's voice trembled as he ended. He bent over his sleeping boy and touched his forehead with his lips, then rose to leave the room.
Kathleen's beautiful eyes were moist, but her face was lighted by such a look as John Torrance had never before seen there. She placed her hand in his, he thought by way of farewell, but when he held it she made no effort to withdraw it from his clasp. He felt it tremble, and interpreting the expression on her face aright, he exclaimed—