“Bella, how can you say that! Don’t you know that I should have been proud? Don’t you know that you’re the only woman I’ve ever liked? But I won’t let you sacrifice yourself for me. I’ve seen people die of consumption, and I know the ghastliness of it. D’you think I would let you nurse me and do all the odious things that are needful? And you might get ill, too. Oh no, Bella, don’t think me ungrateful, but I couldn’t marry you.”
“D’you think it would be a sacrifice to me?” she asked in tragic tones. “My poor boy, you never saw that I loved you with all my soul, and when you were so happy and careless my heart felt as though it would break because I was old and plain. You’ve forgotten that one day you kissed my hands: it was only a joke to you, but when you’d gone I cried bitterly. You’d never have done it except that you thought I was forty and it couldn’t matter. And when you took my arm sometimes I felt sick with love. And now, I suppose, you utterly despise me.”
She broke down, sobbing; but in a little while impatiently she brushed away her tears and faced him with a sort of despairing pride.
“After, all what am I but a middle-aged woman? I’ve never been even pretty, and my mind is narrow because I’ve lived all my life among paltry things, and I’m stupid and dull. Why should I think you would care to marry me because I love you like a fool?”
“Oh, Bella, Bella, don’t say that. You break my heart.”
“And you thought it was self-sacrifice on my part! I was only asking you because I wanted to be with you every moment—if you fell ill, I couldn’t bear that anyone else should touch you. I’ve been lonely in my life, so dreadfully lonely, and I was making one last bid for happiness.”
She sank into a chair and hid her face, but Herbert, kneeling beside her, took her hands.
“Look at me, Bella.... I thought you only suggested it because you know I ought to leave the bank, and have someone to look after me. I never suspected that you really cared for me. And I’m ashamed because I was blind. But don’t you know that there’s nothing I should like better than to be with you always? Then I should care nothing for my illness, because it would have brought me a greater happiness than I ever dared to hope for. Bella, if you don’t mind that I’m poor and ill and unworthy of you, will you marry me?”
On a sudden she stopped in the middle of her silent crying and a radiant smile chased away the sorrow. For one moment, while she realized the meaning of his words, she looked at him half in doubt; then, bending down, she kissed his hands.
“Oh, my dearest, you’ve made me so happy.”