Part 5 (1/2)
”I think not.”
”Why?”
”Well, they had a slight quarrel--I have never exactly known the cause-- they parted, and although he wrote several times, she did not answer.”
George scented suspicion in this circ.u.mstance. The fact that this brooch, one of considerable value, should alone have been stolen was, to say the least, curious; but discarded lovers sometimes avenge themselves, and this might perchance be a case of murder through jealousy. As he strolled on beside the handsome girl, with her pale, veiled face, he reflected deeply, trying in vain to form some theory as to the motive of the crime.
”Did the police tell you that beside her I discovered an old miniature of Lady Anne which has been missing from the Court for twenty years or more?” he asked.
”Yes, they showed it to my father and myself. We have, however, never seen it before. How it came into her possession we are utterly at a loss to imagine,” she answered. ”It is a heavy blow to lose her,” she continued, in a low, intense voice. ”We have always been as sisters, and now the fate that has overtaken her is enshrouded in a mystery which seems inexplicable. Father is dreadfully upset. I fear he will never be as happy as before.”
”But you have me, Liane,” her lover said, suddenly halting and drawing her towards him. ”I love you, my darling. I told you nearly two months ago that I loved you. I don't know that I can add anything to what I said then.”
She was silent, looking straight before her.
His breath came more quickly. The colour rose to his cheeks. At this decisive moment the words died in his throat, as they must for every honest lover who would fain ask the momentous question of her whom he loves. He remembered that he now had no right to ask her to be his wife.
”Do you know,” he said at last, again grasping her hand impetuously, ”that I think you the sweetest, most charming woman in the world? I want you to be my wife, and help me to make my life all it should be, only--only I dare not ask you.”
Liane did not withdraw her fingers. She remained perfectly still without meeting his glance. Yet, strangely enough, she shuddered.
”I have not the power to say all I feel. My words sound so harsh and cold; but, Liane, Liane, I love you! G.o.d made not the heart of man to be silent, but has promised him eternity with the intention that he should not be alone. There is for me but one woman upon earth. It is you.”
He looked imploringly into her face.
”Yes, George, I feel that you love me,” she said, with a sweet smile behind her veil. ”It is very nice to be loved.”
He covered her hand with eager kisses; but she withdrew it softly, her lips compressed.
”My darling!” His arm was about her waist, and he kissed her lips. He spoke in strong suppressed agitation; his voice trembled. He recollected he was penniless.
She freed herself from his embrace. ”No, no,” she murmured. ”We may love, but we must not marry. There are so many other girls who would make you far happier than I should.”
He went on to tell her how much he reverenced her character, how good and pure and lovely she was, and how completely she fulfilled his ideal of what a woman ought to be.
Slowly she shook her head. ”That shows you know so little of me, George.”
”I know only what you have told me, dearest,” he answered.
Then a moment later he regretted that he had not adhered to his resolve and exercised more self-control. Was he not without means? Yet he had asked her to marry him! Could he tell her in the same breath that he was penniless? No, he dared not, lest she might cast him aside.
Liane stood like one in a dream, her beautiful face suffused by blushes, her eyes downcast, her breast slowly heaving.
He could resist his own pa.s.sion--he could keep back what he felt--no longer.
”I love you!” cried he.
She stretched out her hands in a sort of mute appeal, and seemed as if she would fall; but in that instant she was again clasped to his heart, and held there with a tender force that she had neither the power nor the will to withstand.
He wished to marry her! Was it possible? And she loved him. With that thought her face was hidden on his shoulder, and she yielded herself to those protecting arms. He felt the shy loving movement as she nestled close to him, and her frame was shaken by a sob.
”My darling--my darling--my own darling!” he cried, triumph in his voice, and pa.s.sionate joy in his eyes. ”You love me--you love me!”