“Ah! I remember that you were discussing it when I interrupted you as I came in,” she said frankly. “Ma wants me to make a rich marriage, it is true, but I love Jack, and I’m determined not to have any other man. I’ve seen enough of the tragedy of rich unions.”
“I know you are true to me, Dora,” my old friend said, grasping her hand, and looking into her eyes as he stood beside her chair. “I’ve waited all day expecting a note from you, for I felt confident you would write or see me after last night’s scene.”
“Don’t refer to that again,” she said quickly, putting up her little hand as if to arrest his words. “It was too cruel of Ma to speak as she did. She tried to wound my feelings, because I told her I would marry the man of my own choice. She wants me to be smart, with a penchant for flirtation, like Mabel,” and her lips quivered with emotion.
“If you marry me, darling,” he said, with an utter disregard for my presence, “I will strive to provide you with fitting supplies, but if you were poorer than Mabel you would at least love your husband dearly and be his idol.”
“I do not doubt it, Jack,” she answered, her love-darting eyes fixed earnestly upon his. “I love no man but yourself.”
“Then nothing shall part us, dearest—nothing,” he declared.
I sat gazing into the fire, thinking of some excuse whereby I might leave them alone. The memories of my own love were too vivid, and this passionate scene was to me painful. Alas! all that remained of the ashes of my own romance was the photograph in my pocket. I had not torn aside the veil of mystery that had surrounded Sybil; I did not even know her true name.
“Stuart, old fellow, you will excuse us speaking in this manner,” my friend said apologetically. “If you had ever loved you would know the depths of our feelings in this hour when estrangement seems probable.”
If I had ever loved! The thought was galling. Was he taunting me?
“Ill go,” I stammered, stifling with difficulty a sob that very nearly escaped me. “Though your exchange of confidences may be made before me, your old friend, without fear of their betrayal, it is best that you should be alone,” and stretching forth my hand I bade Dora adieu.