"'Fore gad," he said to himself.(This was a new addition to his expletory vocabulary, which had accrued from Ned Burnleigh's companionship.) "I'd like to put her alongside of one of the girls that Ned's always talking about.I don't believe she's got her equal anywhere."Arriving at the end of the piazza he impetuously renewed his attempt at an embrace, but her repulse was now unmistakable.
"Sit down," she said, pointing to a chair; "I have something to say to you."Harry's first thought was a rush of jealously."Some rascal has supplanted me," he said bitterly, but under his breath.
She took a chair near by, put away the arm he would have placed about her waist, drew from her pocket a dainty handkerchief bordered with black, and opened it deliberately.It shed a delicate odor of violets.
Harry waited anxiously for her to speak.
"This mourning which I wear," she began gently, "I put on when Ireceived the news of your downfall."
"My downfall?" broke in Harry hotly."Great heavens, you don't say that you, too, have been carried away by this wretched village slander?""I put it on," she continued, unmindful of the interruption, "because I suffered a loss which was greater than any merely physical death could have occasioned.""I don't understand you."
"My faith in you as a man superior to your fellows died then.This was a much more cruel blow than your bodily death would have been.""'Fore gad, you take a pleasant view of my decease--a much cooler one, I must confess, than I am able to take of that interesting event in my history."Her great eyes blazed, and she seemed about to reply hotly, but she restrained herself and went on with measured calmness:
"The reason I selected you from among all other men, and loved you, and joyfully accepted as my lot in life to be your devoted wife and helpmate, was that I believed you superior in all manly things to other men.Without such a belief I could love no man."She paused for an instant, and Harry managed to stammer:
"But what have I done to deserve being thrown over in this unexpected way?""You have not done anything.That is the trouble.You have failed to do that which was rightfully expected of you.You have allowed others, who had no better opportunities, to surpass you in doing your manly duty.Whatever else my husband may not be he must not fail in this.""Rachel, you are hard and cruel."
"No, I am only kind to you and to myself.I know myself too well to make a mistake in this respect.I have seen too many women who have been compelled to defend, apologize, or blush for their husband's acts, and have felt too keenly the abject misery of their lives to take the least chance of adding myself to their sorrowful number.If I were married to you I could endure to be beaten by you and perhaps love you still, but the moment I was compelled to confess your inferiority to some other woman's husband I should hate you, and in the end drag both of us down to miserable graves.""But let me explain this."
"It would be a waste of time," she answered coldly."It is sufficient for me to know that you are convicted by general opinion of having failed where a number of commonplace fellows succeeded.You, yourself, admit the justice of this verdict by tame submission to it, making no effort to retrieve your reputation.I can not understand how this could be so if you had any of the qualities that I fondly imagined you possessed in a high degree.But this interview is being protracted to a painful extent.Let us say good night and part.""Forever?" he stammered.
"Yes."
She held out her hand for farewell.Harry caught it and would have carried it to his lips, but she drew it away.
"No; all that must be ended now," she said, with the first touch of gentleness that had shaded her sad, serious eyes.
"Will you give me no hope?" said Harry, pleadingly.
"When you can make people forget the past--if ever--" she said, "then I will change this dress and you can come back to me."She bowed and entered the house.
