“Most assuredly.”
“And old feuds and differences of a former generation, with which he had nothing to do, should have no weight to hold him back?”
“Why—what mean you?”
“This; that even as you love me,” and a brilliant colour dyed her cheeks at mention of it, “so does Eustace Singleton love Betty.”
“I had half guessed as much—and I am sorry.”
“And Betty loves him. Nay, lie still and look not so angrily at me. There is no one to blame; a woman’s heart, like a man’s, asks no permission in the giving of itself.”
“But Betty knew—”
“Yes, she knew all the opposition in store for her, and she made her own fight; but love takes no dictation.”
“Right well do I know that.”
“Then you have no room for a quarrel with her; rather should your sympathy be on her side. All her happiness is set on Eustace; he is her true lover, has been for years,—and I have resolved so to aid her, that you and Aunt Clevering shall not break her heart by a cruel and useless separation.” She stepped back and threw up her head; just so had she looked a year ago, when she bade defiance to the short colonel while he himself crouched in her shadowy garret. For a moment they gazed at each other steadily, then she was again beside him, her eyes luminous with a gentle entreaty:—