XXII

“A comet’s glare foretold this sad event”

When the barriers had thus been broken down, she had spoken of the breach between William and herself.  There had not been a bitter word or a harsh thought in all that she said.  It had been merely a mutual mistake; they had both mistaken the affection which grows out of familiar association, for the love that instantly draws a man and a woman together, though they may never before have seen one another, and holds them forever, away from all the rest of the world.

“I know the difference now,” she said several days later, with a deeper tint in her cheeks and a brighter light in her blue eyes.  “And I am sure that William does, too.  It’s plain enough that he will be glad to be free, but he cannot say so, because he is a gentleman.  Don’t you see?  For that very reason, just because he is so high-minded, I am all the more bound to do what is right.  You do see, don’t you?”

He was sitting up for the first time that day, his chair was by the window and she was sewing beside him.

“I see what you think is right,” Paul said smilingly.  “And he certainly should be told at once.  But perhaps I might—­”

“Oh, no!  I must tell him myself.  That would only be treating him with due respect.  And William thinks a great deal of respect—­much more than he does of love.  But I can’t get a chance to speak to him.  He is always coming and going of late, and all the family are present when I do see him.  You must wait; you must not say a word to uncle Robert till I have told William; it wouldn’t be honorable on my part.”

“But you are forgetting, little girl, that there may be scruples on my side, too.  If my strength should come back as fast in the next two or three days, I shall be able to leave Cedar House before the end of the week.  I cannot go away in silence; there must be no sort of secrecy.  You perceive there is a question of honor there, too.  I must speak to the judge—­”

“It isn’t any question of secrecy.  There is nothing to keep secret,” she protested and coaxed.  “I am thinking only of William’s feelings, and trying to spare his pride.  I know him best and I am fond of him.  Don’t forget that.  There has not been the least change in my affection for him,” holding her beautiful head very straight.  “Don’t think for a moment that my regard for William has been lessened,” suddenly dimpling, softening, and beaming, “by my falling in love with you.  That is an entirely different thing.”

“I should hope so, indeed!” suddenly bending forward and catching her in his arms with a happy laugh.  “You see how strong I am.  Well, then, you needn’t expect to have your own way all the time much longer.  I yield only so far as to give you three days—­exactly three days from the moment that I leave this house, and not one moment more.  At the end of that time I shall come to see the judge.”