Part 7 (2/2)
”Really!” she e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, with a poor attempt at flippancy; and, in her turn, she asked the question, ”Why?”
”Because I should have known you were honest,” answered Helmsley, with emphasis. ”Honest to your womanly instincts, and to the simplest and purest part of your nature. I should have proved for myself the fact that you refused to sell your beautiful person for gold--that you were no slave in the world's auction-mart, but a free, proud, n.o.ble-hearted English girl who meant to be faithful to all that was highest and best in her soul. Ah, Lucy! You are not this little dream-girl of mine! You are a very realistic modern woman with whom a man's 'ideal' has nothing in common!”
She was silent, half-stifled with rage. He stepped up to her and took her hand.
”Good-night, Lucy! Good-bye!”
She wrenched her fingers from his clasp, and a sudden, uncontrollable fury possessed her.
”I hate you!” she said between her set teeth. ”You are mean! Mean! I hate you!”
He stood quite still, gravely irresponsive.
”You have deceived me--cheated me!” she went on, angrily and recklessly.
”You made me think you wanted to marry me.”
The corners of his mouth went up under his ashen-grey moustache in a chill smile.
”Pardon me!” he interrupted. ”But did I make you think? or did you think it of your own accord?”
She plucked at her fan nervously.
”Any girl--I don't care who she is--would accept you if you asked her to marry you!” she said hotly. ”It would be perfectly idiotic to refuse such a rich man, even if he were Methusaleh himself. There's nothing wrong or dishonest in taking the chance of having plenty of money, if it is offered.”
He looked at her, vaguely compa.s.sionating her loss of self-control.
”No, there is nothing wrong or dishonest in taking the chance of having plenty of money, if such a chance can be had without shame and dishonour,” he said. ”But I, personally, should consider a woman hopelessly lost to every sense of self-respect, if at the age of twenty-one she consented to marry a man of seventy for the sake of his wealth. And I should equally consider the man of seventy a disgrace to the name of manhood if he condoned the voluntary sale of such a woman by becoming her purchaser.”
She lifted her head with a haughty air.
”Then, if you thought these things, you had no right to propose to me!”
she said pa.s.sionately.
He was faintly amused.
”I did not propose to you, Lucy,” he answered, ”and I never intended to do so! I merely asked what your answer would be if I did.”
”It comes to the same thing!” she muttered.
”Pardon me, not quite! I told you I was putting you to a test. That you failed to stand my test is the conclusion of the whole affair. We really need say no more about it. The matter is finished.”
She bit her lips vexedly, then forced a hard smile.
”It's about time it was finished, I'm sure!” she said carelessly. ”I'm perfectly tired out!”
”No doubt you are--you must be--I was forgetting how late it is,” and with ceremonious politeness he opened the door for her to pa.s.s. ”You have had an exhausting evening! Forgive me for any pain or vexation--or--or anger I may have caused you--and, good-night, Lucy! G.o.d bless you!”
He held out his hand. He looked worn and wan, and his face showed pitiful marks of fatigue, loneliness, and sorrow, but the girl was too much incensed by her own disappointment to forgive him for the unexpected trial to which he had submitted her disposition and character.
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