Part 41 (1/2)
”You agree also that under those circ.u.mstances it is no longer the duty of two people to marry, even if they have unfortunately become engaged?”
”I think it would only lead to wretchedness if they did. Honestly, I don't feel in the least sorry for Andrew. In fact, I thoroughly agree that people ought to have their engagements broken off for them if they haven't the sense to see they are unsuitable for themselves.”
Heriot received this a.s.surance with evident pleasure. His manner grew more confidential still.
”Madge,” he said, ”I think it is time I made you a very serious confession.”
Her smile departed.
”You may have noticed,” he continued, ”a certain bloom, so to speak, upon me, a sort of freshness, and so on. Madge, it is the bloom of youth.”
She grew uneasy.
”Oh, really?”
”It is a literal, physical fact. I am rapidly approaching thirty.”
She moved into the farthest corner of her chair, but made no other comment.
”You will thus see that it is merely a question of time before there will be an even greater disparity of years between you and me than between Ellen and Andrew.”
Her expression changed entirely.
”Heriot!” she exclaimed indignantly.
”Yes, Madge, I grieve deeply to resign the hopes of happiness I had formed on a life spent in your society, but alas! I must. Your adult charms cannot be thrown away upon an unappreciative youth; it would be a tragedy.”
”You are many years older than I!”
”I was a short time ago, but to-day we are roughly speaking, twins--though with this difference, that as I am looking forward to a strenuous youth, and you to a handsome old age, naturally I feel a chicken compared with you. But then think of the next year or two, when I shall perhaps be playing football, and you will find it no longer possible to keep your gray hairs so artistically brushed beneath your black tresses: think of that, Madge!”
”Are you out of your mind?” she gasped.
”On the contrary, I have never been clearer-headed in my life.”
”Then,” she exclaimed wrathfully, ”you are merely inventing a ridiculous fable to excuse your shuffling out of your engagement!”
”My dear lady,” he replied pacifically, ”shall I jump over this chair to convince you?”
”_Nothing_ would convince me.”
”Ah,” he said, with a friendly smile, ”I see that you want to have me whether I'm a suitable mate or not, whether my feelings have changed--”
”I certainly do not!” she interrupted.
”Then in that case shall we call it off?”
He rose and picked up an evening paper.