“And now you will know what I am. I shall stay with him too, of course.” The conversation should have ended with this retort, but Zoe was incapable of letting matters remain as they were. The man deserved punishment, and he should have it. “And now that I have answered your questions, perhaps you will let me know the reason of your sudden concern for me?” she asked.
“As your brother’s friend—servant——”
“Indeed! If you had said that the memory of old times, or the fear that another deserving young man might be as badly treated as you were, had made you speak, it would be a different thing. It would have given you a personal standing in the matter. But to say what you have said, merely as a servant or friend of the family, is unpardonable. It is a piece of gross impertinence.”
She expected an outburst of anger, but he controlled himself admirably. “You can say what you like to me,” he said, and once again Zoe’s heart played her false. Severity was obviously the proper course, but she could not be severe when he was meek.
“There is one other reason—only one—that might justify you,” she said hurriedly, looking on the ground. “If you could say honestly, ‘I have a part to play, and I have made up my mind to play it. I will not be tempted to throw it up, and I am afraid of being tempted—I am tempted——’”
Her voice failed, and her head had sunk so low that he could not see her face. If she could have forced herself to look up, and their eyes had met, the barrier between them must have been broken down; but he had time to recover himself, and his voice was harsh as he answered—
“You have no right to say that. Such a supposition is unpardonable. It is a piece of——”
“Oh!” cried Zoe, covering her ears as she recognised the echo of her own words, and shrinking away from him. The humiliation of his presence was intolerable, and she was stung at last into speaking again. “Would you kindly go?” she asked, still not looking at him.
“Forgive me. I was a—a cad to say it.” He brought out the odious word with a fierce satisfaction, as if he desired to hear Zoe confirm his self-condemnation. But she looked steadily away from him.
“I will forgive you when you forgive yourself,” she said, and Wylie left her, cursing his own evil temper, the memory of his past wrongs, the present danger, and all the other circumstances that had conspired to make him behave like a brute, when he had honestly intended to play a high and heroic part. It had seemed such a suitable punishment—well, not exactly punishment; say recompense—to carry the unselfish sentiments he had enunciated when Zoe refused him long ago to the point of promoting this politically desirable marriage for her, and they ought both to have felt it an excellent arrangement. But Zoe saw fit to object, and what was more absurd still, he discovered that in his use of moral suasion he had hurt himself as much as he had her. Very wisely, but a little late, he registered a vow to leave Prince Romanos to fight his own battles in future.