The Definite Object Part 85

Hermione was silent.

"Tell me!"

Still she was silent, only she bent lower above the pool and drew further from him, whereat his pale cheek flushed, and his frown grew blacker.

And presently, as he scowled down into the water, she stole a look at him, and when she spoke, though the words were light, the quiver in her voice belied them.

"Invalid, dear, if you want to be angry with me, wait--till you're a little stronger."

Ravenslee stooped and picked up a handful of small pebbles that chanced to lie loose.

"Wife, dear," said he, "I'm as well and strong as ever I was. But I've asked you several questions which I mean you to answer, so I am going to give you until I have pitched all these pebbles into the water, and then--" Hermione glanced up swiftly.

"Then?" she questioned.

"Why then, if you haven't answered, I shall--take matters into my own hands. One!" and a pebble splashed into the pool.

"What do you want to know?"

"Two! Why haven't you condescended to take your allowance?"

"Dear, I--I didn't need it, and even if I had, I--oh, I couldn't take it--yet!"

"Three! Why not?"

"Because you have given me so much already, and I--have given you--nothing."

"Four! Why--haven't you?"

"Oh--well--because!"

"Five! What does 'because' mean, this time?"

"It means--just--because!"

"Six! Seven! Eight! Why have you avoided me lately?"

Hermione was silent, watching him with troubled eyes while he slowly pitched the pebbles into the pool, counting as they fell.

"Nine! Ten! Eleven! Twelve! Why do you keep me at arm's length?"

"I don't--I--I--you won't let me--" she said a little breathlessly, while one by one he let the pebbles fall into the pool, counting inexorably as they fell.

"Thirteen! Fourteen, fifteen--and that's the last!" As he spoke he turned toward her, and she, reading something of his purpose in his eyes, turned to flee, felt his long arms about her, felt herself swung up and up and so lay crushed and submissive in his fierce embrace as he turned and began to bear her across the garden. Then, being helpless, she began to plead with him.

"Ah, don't, don't--dear! Geoffrey! Put me down! Where are you taking me?

If any one sees us--"

"Let them!" he muttered grimly; "you're my wife!"

So he bore her across the garden into the arbour and laying her upon the divan, sank beside it on his knees, panting a little.

"A little weak--still!" said he, "but not so bad--you're no scraggy sylph, thank heaven! Hermione--look at me!" But she turned and hid her face against him, for his clasp was close about her still. So he stooped and kissed her hair, her glowing cheek, her soft white neck, and, in that instant--wonder of wonders--her arms were around him, strong, pa.s.sionate arms that clung and drew him close--then strove wildly to hold him away.

"Loose me!" she cried, "let me go! Geoffrey--husband, be generous and let me go!" But he lifted her head, back and back across his arm until beneath her long lashes her eyes looked into his.

"Hermione, when will you--be my wife?"

Against him he could feel the sweet hurry of her breathing, and stooping he spoke again, lip to lip:

"Hermione, when will you be my wife?"

But, even while he kissed her, between those quivering, parted lips came a murmur of pa.s.sionate prayer and pleading.

"Oh, my love, wait--wait! Let me tell you--ah, loose me and let me tell you."

Slowly his hold relaxed, and, twisting in his arms, she slipped upon her knees beside him, and, crouching close, hid her face against him.

"Beloved," she whispered quickly, breathlessly, "oh, dear man that I love so--there is something between us, a shadow of shame and horror that is with me day and night and always must be. While you lay sick it was there, torturing me with every moan and sigh you uttered. It is with me wherever I go--it is between us now--yes, now--even while I strain you in my arms like this. I have watched you grow strong and well again, I've seen the love in your eyes, and I've yearned to be to you--all you would have me, but because of this shadow I--dare not. Ah, G.o.d, how can I be wife to you when--let this answer for me." And she placed in Ravenslee's hand a coat b.u.t.ton whereto a piece of cloth adhered. "Dear love, I saw you throw it away," she explained, "and I searched and searched until I found it."

"Why?"

"Because I knew you would soon ask me--this question, and I have kept it for my answer. Ah, G.o.d! how can I be wife to you when my brother would have killed you--murdered you!"

Ravenslee hurled the b.u.t.ton far away, then lifting Hermione's bowed head, spoke very tenderly.

"How does all this affect our love, Hermione, except to show me you are even sweeter and n.o.bler than I had thought. And as for the shadow, it is--only a shadow after all."

"But it is my shame!" she answered. "You might have had for wife the sister of a thief, but not--oh, G.o.d! not the sister of a would-be murderer. If--if I came to you now, I should come in shame--Ah, Geoffrey, don't--shame me!"

"G.o.d forbid!" he muttered.

Close, close she clasped him, hiding her face against him, kissing and kissing the rough cloth of his coat.

"Oh, Geoffrey," she murmured, "how we do love each other!"

"So much, Hermione, that I will never--claim you until you are ready to come to me of your own will. But, dear, I am only a man--how long must I wait?"

"Give me time," she pleaded, "with time the horror may grow less. Let me go away for awhile--a little while. Let me find Arthur--"

"No," he answered, frowning, "you shan't do that; there will be no need--to-morrow I go to fetch him."

"To bring him--here?"

"Why, of course. You see, I intend him to go to college."

Hermione rose and coming to the entrance of the arbour leaned there.

"Why, Hermione--dear love--you're crying! What is it?"