“Who was the woman?”
“Ah! it is a secret,” I answered. “But I sympathise with you, because I, alas! have experienced all that poignant bitterness, the dregs of life’s unhappiness that are too often the lot of the lover. I loved, ah! I adored, one woman. She was my life, my very soul was hers, but she has gone, gone, and I am left alone with nothing but the memory of her face that comes back to me constantly in my day-dreams.”
“She married someone else, I suppose?” she observed gloomily.
“Death parted us,” I answered huskily, for the memory of her sad, sweet countenance always caused a lump to rise in my throat.
Dora echoed my sigh and was silent, deeply absorbed in thought, gazing away to where the moonbeams shimmered on the lake.
“Dead! then all is of the past,” she said presently. “I never suspected that you had really loved. I never knew that you had been guilty of any deeper indiscretion than the mild flirtation which used to be carried on between us in the old days. Now that you have told me your secret, I can well understand why pretty women have no longer attraction for you, and the reason you have become something of a misanthrope.”
“Misanthrope. Yes, you are right, Dora. I am not old in years, but unfortunately I have grown world-weary early, and have been overwhelmed by a catastrophe that has warped my life and sapped my youthful spirits. But do not let us discuss it further. You are young, and Jack Bethune is deeply attached to you. Therefore I will do my best to induce him to return.”
She turned to me, and taking my hand in hers went on: “I can only express my gratitude, and—and hope that into your life may enter some other woman who may be as worthy honest love as the one whose sad death has struck this chord of tragedy in your heart.”
“Thank you, Dora,” I answered with earnestness, looking into her eyes. “But I am afraid I am doomed to bachelorhood. As I have observed on a previous occasion, if it were not for Jack’s existence I should, in all probability, go down on my knees and kiss this hand of yours.”
“How foolish!” she cried in a strained voice. “I love Jack!”