So overcoming a weakness assailed me that I had to catch the top of a chair.
“Of course I understand,” I said, unevenly, and floundered on, with pauses: “I might have guessed, but... a cherished ideal is very real to me. When I lost Beela and found Lentala, I lost what I had come to love. No, not lost,—I am very foolish and blundering.”
“No, Joseph.” Her smile was dazzling.
“It never could be lost while I lived, and would live had she died. It was Lentala, not Beela, who put Beela away, and then me.”
“You know what I thought, Joseph. I meant to be kind. And I never had the least idea until today that Annabel cared for Mr. Rawley. I thought she loved you, and that you had been very fond of her till Beela came. I reasoned that it would be best for you to go to your own country, marry Annabel, and forget Beela.”
That sweet speech explained everything, but it was not possible for me to feel the ease in the presence of her radiant loveliness that I had felt toward Beela, the child-woman, the sprite, who could flutter into a man’s heart and abide forever. I managed to say bluntly:
“I understand. And now that all is clear, may I stay and do whatever lies in my power and devotion to help you?”
She was regarding me curiously, and with a touch of uneasiness. “Simply because I’ve asked you?” she demanded.
“It is my dearest wish.”
Still the strange look was in her eyes. I dared not interpret it as my heart commanded; I had never loved a woman before, and needed time to gather my courage. Of a sudden an impulse moved me to step forward, take her hands, and look deep into her eyes.