Part 37 (2/2)
Harley and the candidate, in the shrubbery, never stirred. They listened, but they forgot that they were listening.
The girl lifted her eyes to those of her lover, and there was in them no reproach, only a high, sad courage.
”You do not mean what you say now, Arthur,” she said. ”I have given my promise to my father, and you must help me to be strong, for alone I am weak, very weak. None can help me but you. You must go, as you said you would go, but your face shall always be with me here. Though I may not be your wife, I shall be true to you all my life.”
”In such moments as these the woman is always stronger than the man,”
breathed Jimmy Grayson.
Lee dropped her hands again and walked a step or two away.
”Helen,” he said, ”forgive me, and forget what I said. I was base when I spoke. But I have found it too hard!--too hard!”
Her eyes still expressed no reproach; there was in them something almost divine. She loved him the more because of his weakness, although she would not yield to it.
”It is hard, very hard for us both,” she whispered, ”but it must be done. But, Arthur, I love you. I have told you that, and I am not ashamed of it. I shall never love any one else. It is not possible.”
”I know it. I know, too, that your heart will always be mine, but, as the world sees it, your father is right. I am nothing. I have no right to a wife--above all, to one such as you. I feel that I have a power within me, the power to do things which the world would call good, but there is no chance. I suppose that the chance will come some day--when it is too late.”
Harley started. The words were the echo of his own. ”We must go,” he whispered to the candidate. ”No one has a right to listen, even without intention, at this, their last meeting.” Jimmy Grayson had already turned away, and by the faint moonlight sifting through the branches Harley saw a mist in his eyes. But their movement made a sound, and the lovers looked up.
”Did you hear a noise? What was it?” asked Helen.
”Only a lizard in the gra.s.s or a squirrel rattling the bark of a tree,”
replied Arthur.
They listened a moment, but they heard nothing more, save the faint stirring of the wind among the leaves and the gra.s.s.
”Are you really going, Arthur?” asked Helen, as if, approving it once, she would like now to hear him deny it.
He looked at her, his face flus.h.i.+ng and his eyes alight, as if at last he heard her ask him to stay; but he saw in her gaze only brave resolve.
She could love him, and yet she had the strength to sacrifice that love for what she considered her duty. He drew courage from her, and he lifted his head proudly, although his eyes expressed grief alone.
”Yes, I have only to start,” he replied; ”you know I have little to take. I make just one more public appearance in Egmont. Mr. Grayson speaks here again to-morrow night, and the committee, by some chance--a chance it must have been--has put me on the list of speakers.”
”Oh, Arthur, it may be an opportunity for you!”
She was eager, flushed, her eyes flaming and uplifted to his.
”It might be, Helen, at any other time, but this is evil fortune. I am of the other party; I must speak against him--we are fair to both sides here; he will have the right of rejoinder, and you know what he is, Helen--the greatest orator in America, perhaps in all the world. No one yet has ever been able to defeat him, and what chance have I, with no experience, against the most formidable debater in existence? I should s.h.i.+rk it, Helen, if the people would not think me a coward.”
”Oh, Arthur, what an ordeal!” She looked up at him with wet, tender eyes.
Harley, at the mention of Jimmy Grayson's name, glanced away from the lovers and towards the candidate. He saw him start, and a singular, soft expression pa.s.s over his face, to be followed by one of doubt.
”Now I shall go, Helen,” said Arthur. ”It was wrong of me to ask you to meet me here, but I could not go away without seeing you alone and speaking to you alone, as I do now.”
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