Part 64 (2/2)

”I--I hope so.”

He was silent; and presently she said: ”I--the reason of it--my crying--is b-b-because I don't wish you to be unhappy.”

”But, dear, dear little girl, I am not!”

”Really?”

”No, indeed! Why should I be? You do love me; don't you?”

”You know I do.”

”But not in _that_ way.”

”N-no; not in _that_ way... . I w-wish I did.”

A thrill pa.s.sed through him; after a moment he relaxed and leaned forward, his chin resting on his clinched hands: ”Then let us go back to the old footing, Eileen.”

”Can we?”

”Yes, we can; and we will--back to the old footing--when nothing of deeper sentiment disturbed us... . It was my fault, little girl. Some day you will understand that it was not a wholly selfish fault--because I believed--perhaps only dreamed--that I could make you happier by loving you in--both ways. That is all; it is your happiness--our happiness that we must consider; and if it is to last and endure, we must be very, very careful that nothing really disturbs it again. And that means that the love, which is sometimes called friends.h.i.+p, must be recognised as sufficient... . You know how it is; a man who is locked up in Paradise is never satisfied until he can climb the wall and look over! Now I have climbed and looked; and now I climb back into the garden of your dear friends.h.i.+p, very glad to be there again with you--very, very thankful, dear... . Will you welcome me back?”

She lay quite still a minute, then sat up straight, stretching out both hands to him, her beautiful, fearless eyes brilliant as rain-washed stars.

”Don't go away,” she said--”don't ever go away from our garden again.”

”No, Eileen.”

”Is it a promise ... Philip?”

Her voice fell exquisitely low.

”Yes, a promise. Do you take me back, Eileen?”

”Yes; I take you... . Take me back, too, Philip.” Her hands tightened in his; she looked up at him, faltered, waited; then in a fainter voice: ”And--and be of g-good courage... . I--I am not very old yet.”

She withdrew her hands and bent her head, sitting there, still as a white-browed novice, listlessly considering the lengthening shadows at her feet. But, as he rose and looked out across the waste with enchanted eyes that saw nothing, his heart suddenly leaped up quivering, as though his very soul had been drenched in immortal suns.h.i.+ne.

An hour later, when Nina discovered them there together, Eileen, curled up among the cus.h.i.+ons in the swinging seat, was reading aloud ”Evidences of Asiatic Influence on the Symbolism of Ancient Yucatan”; and Selwyn, astride a chair, chin on his folded arms, was listening with evident rapture.

”Heavens!” exclaimed Nina, ”the blue-stocking and the fogy!--and yours _are_ pale blue, Eileen!--you're about as self-conscious as Drina--slumping there with your hair tumbling _a la_ Merode! Oh, it's very picturesque, of course, but a straight spine and good grooming is better. Get up, little blue-stockings and we'll have our hair done--if you expect to appear at Hitherwood House with me!”

Eileen laughed, calmly smoothing out her skirt over her slim ankles; then she closed the book, sat up, and looked happily at Selwyn.

”Fogy and _Bas-bleu_,” she repeated. ”But it _is_ fascinating, isn't it?--even if my hair is across my ears and you sit that chair like a polo player! Nina, dearest, what is your mature opinion concerning the tomoya and the Buddhist cross?”

”I know more about a tomboy-a than a tomoya, my saucy friend,” observed Nina, surveying her with disapproval--”and I can be as cross about it as any Buddhist, too. You are, to express it as pleasantly as possible, a sight! Child, what on earth have you been doing? There are two smears on your cheeks!”

”I've been crying,” said the girl, with an amused sidelong flutter of her lids toward Selwyn.

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