At his words, my heart seemed to turn over within me and settle heavily. It was before the days when we discussed life's tragedies with our best men friends. Indeed, it was so long before that I sickened and grew faint at the very thought of the sorrowful knowledge which I kept secret from him.
Again he repeated, "What's the matter with you?" but I could find no answer. I just sat shivering, with my lace scarf drawn close across my bare shoulders.
Gordon took hold of a white ruffle on my gown and began to fidget with it. I could see the fine thoughts go flitting through his eyes, but when he spoke again it was quite commonplacely.
"Will you do me a favor?" he asked. "Will you do me the favor of marrying me?" And he laughed. Good God! he laughed!
"A favor" to marry him! And he asked it as he might have asked for a posie or a dance. So flippantly—with a laugh. "A favor!" And Dolly Leonard lay dead of her favor!
I jumped to my feet—I was half mad with fear and sex and sorrow and excitement. Something in my brain snapped. And I struck Gordon—struck him across the face with my open hand. And he turned as white as the dead Dolly Leonard, and went away—oh, very far away.
Then I ran back alone to the hall and stumbled into my father's arms.
"Are you having a good time?" asked my father, pointing playfully at my blazing cheeks.
I went to my answer like an arrow to its mark. "I am having the most wonderful time in the world," I cried; "I have settled with man."
My father put back his head and shouted. He thought it was a fine joke. He laughed about it long after my party was over. He thought my head was turned. He laughed about it long after other people had stopped wondering why Gordon went away.