“I see I pain you,” said the major, in affected sorrow. “Nay! then I will leave your presence. Heaven bless you!” and he rose sadly and prepared to go.
Kate was staggered by these words. Could one who thus spoke have really acted as basely as she but now supposed? She could not believe it. Yet she still turned with repugnance from the idea of a union with Major Lindsay. Meantime that individual had advanced several steps toward the door, while Kate continued sobbing violently on the sofa. Her heart was torn with conflicting emotions. If she suffered her visiter to depart, her father’s blood would be on her hands. The major had already turned the lock: there was no longer room for delay. Springing wildly from her seat, she rushed forward and laid her hand on his arm.
“Stay!” she gasped. “Do with me as you will.”
A gleam of triumph shot across Major Lindsay’s face.
“You know not how you transport me,” he said rapidly. “If the devotion of a life can repay you for this promise, here I swear to bestow it in requital,” and taking those fair but listless fingers in his hand, he would have raised them to his lips.
But Kate instinctively drew them back, and with an almost haughty gesture. The next moment, however, she again burst into tears.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, “is there no other way? Be generous, Major Lindsay.”
She stood like an imploring Niobe, her eyes raised in supplication, her whole face beaming.
The countenance of her auditor, on that sudden withdrawal of her hand, had flushed with sudden anger; but he had now once more controlled his features to a look of pity, and he replied—
“Would I could do as you wish; would there was some other way.”