"But it's of no use seeking excuses for him.My lover--my husband--must be a man who can hold his own with other men, in whatever relation of life the struggle may be.The man into whose hands I entrust the happiness of my life must have his qualities so clear and distinct that there never will be any question about them.He must not need continual explanation and defense, for then outraged pride would strangle love with a ruthless hand.No, I must never have reason to believe that my choice is inferior to other men in anything."But notwithstanding this, she smoothed out the crumpled letter tenderly upon her knee, and read it over again, in the vain hope of finding that the words had less harshness than she had at first found in them.
"No," she said after a weary study of the lines, "it's surely worse than mother states it.She is so kind and gentle that she never fails to mitigate the harshness of anything that she hears about others, and she has told me this as mildly as the case will admit.
I must give him up forever."
But though she made this resolution with a firm settling of the lines around her mouth that spoke strongly of its probable fulfilment, the arrival of the decision was the signal for the assault of a thousand tender memories and dear recollections, all pleading trumpet-tongued against the summary dismissal of the unworthy lover.
All the ineffably sweet incidents of their love-life stretched themselves out in a vista before her, and tempted her to reverse her decision.But she stayed her purpose with repeating to herself:
"It will save untold misery hereafter to be firm now, and end a connection at once that must be the worse for both of us every day that it is allowed to continue."There was a tap at the door, and Dr.Denslow entered.
The struggle had so shattered Rachel's self-control that she nervously grasped the letter and thrust it into her pocket, as if the mere sight of it would reveal to him the perturbation that was shaking her.
His quick eyes--quicker yet in whatever related to her--noticed her embarrassment.
"Excuse me," he said with that graceful tact which seemed the very fiber of his nature."You are not in the mood to receive callers.
I will go now, and look in again."
"No, no; stay.I am really glad to see you.It is nothing, Iassure you."
She really wished very much to be alone with her grief, but she felt somehow that to shrink from a meeting would be an evasion of the path of duty she had marked out for her feet to tread.If she were going to eliminate all thoughts of her love and her lover from her life, there was no better time to begin than now, while her resolution was fresh.She insisted upon the Doctor remaining, and he did so.Conscious that her embarrassment had been noticed, her self-possession did not return quickly enough to prevent her falling into the error of failing to ignore this, and she confusedly stumbled into an explanation:
"I have received a letter from home which contains news that disturbs me." This was as far as she had expected to go.
Dr.Denslow's face expressed a lively sympathy."No one dead or seriously ill, I trust.""No, not as bad as that," she answered hastily, in the first impulse of fear that she had unwarrantably excited his sympathy."Nor is it anything connected with property," she hastily added, as she saw the Doctor looked inquiringly, but as though fearing that further questioning might be an indelicate intrusion.
She picked nervously at the engagement ring which Harry had placed upon her finger.It fitted closely, and resisted her efforts at removal.she felt, when it was too late, that neither this nor its significance had escaped Dr.Denslow's eyes.
"A f-riend--an--acquaintance of mine has disgraced himself," she said, with a very apparent effort.
An ordinary woman would have broken down in a tearful tempest, but as has been said before she was denied that sweet relief which most women find in a readily responsive gush of tears.Her eyes became very dry and exceedingly hot.Her misery was evident.
The Doctor took her hand with a movement of involuntary sympathy.
"I am deeply hurt to see you grieve," he said, "and I wish that I might say something to alleviate your troubles.Is it anything that you can tell me about?""No, it is nothing of which I can say a word to any one," she answered."It is a trouble that I can share with no one, and least of all with a stranger.""am I not more than a stranger to you?" he asked.
"O yes, indeed," she said, and hastening to correct her former coldness, added:
"You are a very dear, good friend, whom I value much more highly than I have given you reason to think."His face brightened wonderfully, but he adventured his way slowly.
"I am very glad that you esteem me what I have tried to show myself during our acquaintance.""You have indeed shown yourself a very true friend.I could not ask for a better one.""Then will you not trust me with a share of your sorrows, that Imay help you bear them?"
