"But love must have faith to lean upon. While I loved you, I rested on absolute trust. I would have believed you against all the world. I would have been glad to share your lot, even in poverty and obscurity. I did not love you for your art nor your fame. You wavered; you forgot me. I don't know what it was that tempted you, but it was enough; it drew you away from me; and as long as you preferred another, or could be satisfied with any other woman's love, you lost all claim to mine."
Greenleaf could not but feel the force of this direct, womanly logic: in its clear light how pitiful were the excuses he had framed for himself! He felt sure that many, even of the best of men, might have erred in the same way; but this was an argument which would have much more weight with his own sex than with women. Men know their own frailties, and are therefore charitable; women consider inconstancy to be the one unpardonable sin, and are inexorable.
He came still nearer, vainly hoping to see some indication of relenting; but the pale face was as firm as it was sad.
"I said before, Alice, that I do not attempt to defend my faithlessness, hardly to extenuate it; and I do not at all wonder at your altered temper towards me. It was a cruel blow I gave you. But my life shall show you the sincerity of my repentance."
She shook her head as she answered,—
"When you left me, the last spark of love went out. It is hard to kindle anew the dead embers. No,—when I found that you could be untrue, all was over,—past, present, and future."
"But consider," he said, still more earnestly, "what remains for you or me. You will have the memory of this great sorrow, and I the unending remorse. I can never love another woman while you live, and you—may I say it?—will never love again as you have loved. Is it not for your own happiness, as it is most assuredly for mine, that you overlook the fault, receive me again, and trust to the lasting effect of the bitter lesson I have learned? Forgive me, if I seem too bold,—if the desire to atone for the past makes me sue for pardon with unbecoming zeal. If I were less urgent, it would be because I was not sensible of the wrong, and careless about reparation."
She was silent; contending passions strove for mastery. She had not forgotten him, then! He took courage and came yet nearer.
"Will you give me your hand? Alice, will you?"
He reached his own towards her.