Part 26 (1/2)
”Why not?” asked Eurydice, fiercely. ”He's wonderful. He isn't like you--he works. He's like Napoleon, only he's always right, and _he_ hasn't asked her to be his permanent trained nurse!”
Julian had a theory that you cannot swear at women; so he caught the words back, and wondered what would happen if Eurydice said anything worse.
”Don't you think,” he said after a pause, ”that if you insulted me once every five minutes, and then took a little rest, we might finish quicker? I will admit that there is no reason why Stella shouldn't be in love with Mr. Travers except the reason that I have for thinking she's in love with me.”
”Well, she isn't,” a.s.serted Eurydice. ”She's awfully fond of you, but it all started with her finding out that you were unhappier than she was.
She came to you to get over what she felt about Mr. Travers, and to free him to care for me; but he doesn't. That's how I found out; I asked him.”
”The deuce you did!” exclaimed Julian. ”Poor old Travers!”
Eurydice ignored this flagrant impertinence. She repeated Mr. Travers's exact words: ”I cared for your sister, Miss Waring; I am not a changeable man.”
”But I notice,” said Julian, politely, ”that this profession of Mr.
Travers's feelings which you succeeded in wringing from him does not include your sister's. I had already inferred from my slight knowledge of your sister that Mr. Travers was attached to her. The inference was easy.”
”I hoped that myself,” said Eurydice--”I mean, that she didn't care. I wrote and asked Cicely. She's my other sister; she hates me, but she's just. She doesn't know about you, of course. Would you like to see her letter?”
”It seems a fairly caddish thing to do, doesn't it?” asked Julian, pleasantly. ”However, perhaps this is hardly the moment for being too particular. Yes, you can hand me over the letter.” Julian read:
My dear Eurydice:
You ask if I think Stella cared for Mr. Travers. I dislike this kind of question very much. However, as you seem to have some qualms of conscience at last, you may as well know that I think she did. She's never had anything for herself. You've always taken all there was to take, and I dare say she thought Mr. Travers ought to be included. She never told me that she cared for him, but of course even you must know that Stella wouldn't do such a thing as that. She spoke during her illness of him once in a way that made me suspect what she was feeling, added to which I was sure that she was struggling against great mental pain, as well as physical. She evidently wanted to get away from the town hall and leave Mr.
Travers to you. You can draw your own inferences from these facts.
Stella would rather be dragged to pieces by wild horses than tell you any more; so, if I were you, I would avoid asking her.
Your affectionate sister,
CICELY.
”You did ask her, of course,” said Julian, handing Eurydice the letter; ”and as we are both acting in a thoroughly underhand way, perhaps you will not mind repeating to me Stella's reply.”
”At first she didn't answer at all,” said Eurydice, slowly, ”and then when I asked her again she said; 'I'm not going to tell you anything at all about Mr. Travers. I came here to tell you about Julian, only you won't listen to me.' Then,” said Eurydice, ”she cried.”
”Please don't tell me any more,” said Julian, quickly, shading his eyes with his hand. ”I should be awfully obliged if you'd go. I think you've said enough.”
Eurydice also thought that she had said enough; so she returned with the satisfaction of one who has accomplished a mission, on the rest of Stella's pound.
CHAPTER XXVI
This is going to be my last love-letter to you, Stella. I wonder if you will know it is a love-letter. It won't sound particularly like one. It's to tell you that I can't go through with our marriage. I can't give you my reasons, and I can't face you without giving them to you. You must try to take my word for it that I am doing what I think best for both of us.
You see, I trust you to do what I want, though I know I am acting in a way that you'll despise. If you will think of what it means for me to act in such a way, you'll realize that I am pretty certain that I am right.
You are the best friend I ever had, man or woman, and I know you value my friends.h.i.+p, so that it seems uncommonly mean to take it away from you; and yet I'm afraid I can't be satisfied with your friends.h.i.+p.
It would honestly make me happier to hear that you were married; but I couldn't meet you afterward, and if you don't marry, I couldn't let you alone.
You see, I tried that plan when I didn't know you'd let me do anything else, and it can't be said to have worked very well, can it? It would be quite impossible now. There are two things I'd like you to remember. One is, if you set out, as I think you did, to heal a broken man, you've succeeded, and nothing can take away from your success. You put in a new mainspring. I am going to work now. Some day I'll finish the book, but not yet. The second thing is something I want you to do for me. I know I have no right to ask you! I'm only appealing to your mercy. Will you let my mother help you a little? I know you won't let me, but you would have let me, Stella. Think what that means to me--to know that you would have taken my help, and that by freeing you I am also, in a sense, deserting you. If you still want to make a man happier who has only been a nuisance to you, you can't say I haven't shown you the way.