"It isn't what I'm doing for him now, Jimmy—it's what I'm going to do for him," she said, raising her eyes for the first time. "I thought you'd like to hear about it. Charlie wants me—he's asked me to marry him."
Jimmy had turned for a moment to look back at his precious notes; he swung round now towards her, and for a moment or two was silent. For this was a shock; and perhaps just then Jimmy realised for the first time that in this he might have had a word to say, after all. For Jimmy had planned, as he always did for himself and for others, a certain future, in which always he took the lead, and wherein always he arranged the lives of those in whom he was interested. In some part of that dim and distant future he was, as a very successful man, to have gone to Moira, and with much kindness have offered her a share in it; with no real priggishness in the thought, he yet felt that she should be very properly gratified, and a little humble, and very much admiring. It was all indefinite; but it had a place in that future; and this was a sudden disturbance of the scheme.
"Charlie has asked you to marry him?" He moved a little nearer to her, and laughed. "And what did you say?"
"Nothing—yet," said Moira. "You see, Jimmy"—her loneliness made her confidential with him; she must at that time, she felt, lean on someone—"I didn't know what to say. Of course, I like Charlie—and I'm sorry for him—and I should like to help him. He says I could; that I should give him something to work for."
"A man always says that," said Jimmy wisely. "After all, it must be a matter for yourself, my dear girl," he added. "I suppose Charlie knows best; perhaps you will be able to help him to make something of himself."
"I hope so—I think so," she said, in a low voice. "I only came to-night, Jimmy, because—because we've been such good friends, you and I——"
"And always shall be, of course," he broke in.
"And I thought you'd like to know about it."
Jimmy looked at her thoughtfully for a moment or two; then he sighed, and smiled as she raised her eyes to him. "You've had but a poor life of it, Moira," he said; "I don't wonder you turn to a man who promises you something better."
"Perhaps that's it," she whispered, dropping her eyes. "After all, Jimmy, I suppose love only comes once—doesn't it?"