For was he not striving with all his might; had he not determined upon this long struggle for position that he might win her?
And how could she do anything but love him? Dear Luke! Indeed she would be true to him, and write him such encouraging letters--help him all she could. It was her duty now, for though they were not regularly affianced with her friends" sanction, she told herself that her promise to him was sacred.
"Yes," she said, half aloud, as she walked thoughtfully on, "I love Luke very dearly, and that other was all a bad, feverish kind of dream, and I"ll never think about it more. It was wicked of Mr Cyril, knowing what he does, and weak of me, and never again--Oh!"
"Did I make you jump, Sage?" said a low voice; and Cyril came from the gate over which he had been leaning, and jerked the stump of a cigar away.
"I--I did not see you, Mr Cyril," she said, faintly, and the tears sprang to her eyes.
"And I frightened the poor little thing, did I? There, I"ll be more careful next time; but, oh, what a while you have been."
"Don"t stop me, Mr Cyril," she said, with trembling voice; "I must hurry home."
"Well, you shall directly; but, Sage, don"t please be so hard and cruel to me. You know how humble and patient I have been, and yet you seem to be one day warm, the next day cold, and the third day hot and angry with me. What have I done?"
"I do not understand you, Mr Cyril," she said, trying to speak sternly, and walking on towards the farm.
"Then I will speak more plainly," he said, suddenly dropping the bantering tone in which he had addressed her for one full of impa.s.sioned meaning. "Sage, I love you with all my heart, and when you treat me with such cruel coldness, it makes me half mad, and I say to you as I say now, what have I done?"
"Oh, hush! hush!" she panted. "You must not speak to me like that. Mr Cyril, I beg--I implore you--never to address me again. You know--you must know--that I am engaged to Mr Ross."
"Engaged to Mr Ross!" he said, bitterly. "It is not true. There is no engagement between you."
"It is true," she panted, hurrying on, and trembling for her weakness, as she felt how strongly her heart was pleading for him, who kept pace with her, and twice had laid his hand, as if to stop her, upon her arm.
"I have your aunt"s a.s.surance that it is not true," he continued; "and I have hoped, Sage, I have dared to believe, that you were not really fond of this man."
"Mr Cyril, I beg--I implore you to leave me," she cried.
"If I left you now," he said, hoa.r.s.ely, "feeling what I feel, knowing what I know, it would be to plunge into some miserable, reckless course that might end who can say how? What have I to live for if you refuse me your love?"
"How can you be so cruel to me?" she cried, angrily. "You insult me by these words, Mr Cyril I am alone, and you take advantage of my position. You know I am engaged to Mr Ross."
"I do not," he retorted, pa.s.sionately. "I do not believe it; and I never will believe it till I see you his wife. His wife!" he continued.
"It is absurd. You will never be Luke Ross"s wife. It is impossible."
"I will not--I cannot--talk to you," she cried, increasing her pace. It was on her lips to add, "I dare not"; but she checked herself in time, as she glanced sidewise at him, for with a feeling of misery and despair, strangely mingled with pleasure, she felt that all her good resolutions were being swept away by her companion"s words, and, in an agony of shame and dread lest he should read her thoughts, she once more hurried her steps.
"You cannot throw me off like that," he said, bitterly. "I will not be pitched over in this contemptuous manner. Only the other day you looked kindly and tenderly at me."
"Oh no, no, no," she cried, "it is not true."
"It is true enough," he said, sadly, "and I mean to be patient. I cannot believe you care for this man. It is impossible, and I shall wait."
"No, no, Mr Cyril," she pleaded. "I can never listen to such words again. Think of your father and your mother. Mr Mallow would never forgive me if he knew I had listened to you like this."
"Let him remain unforgiving, then," cried Cyril. "As for my mother, she loves her son too well not to be ready to do anything to make him happy."
"Pray, pray go," she moaned.
"No," he said, sternly, "I will not go. You torture me by your coldness, knowing what you do. Do you wish to drive me to despair?"
"I wish you to go and forget me," she cried, with spirit. "As a gentleman, Mr Cyril, I ask you, is such a course as this manly?"
He was silent for a few moments, glancing at her sidewise the while.
"No," he said, "it is neither manly nor gentlemanly, but what can you expect from a miserable wretch against whom all the world seems to turn?
Always unsuccessful--always hoping against hope, fighting against fate, I find, now I come home, that the little girl I always thought of when far away has blossomed into a beautiful woman. How, I know not, but I wake to the fact that she has made me love her--idolise her--think of her as the very essence of my being."
"Mr Cyril," pleaded Sage; but he kept on.
"A new life appears to open out to me, and my old recklessness and misery seem to drop away. I waken to the fact that there is something to live for--something to rouse me to new effort, and to work for as an earnest man should work. I did not seek her out; I did not strive to love her," he continued, as if speaking to some one else; "but her love seemed to come to me, to enweave itself with my every thought."
"I will not listen," panted Sage, but her heart whispered, "Luke never spoke to me like that."
"I fought against it for a time," he went on, dreamily, "for I said to myself this would be wronging her. She is engaged to another, and I should only make her unhappy and disturb the even tenor of her ways."
"Which you have done," she cried, in piteous tones.
"Do not blame me," he said, softly. "I fought hard. I swore I would not think of you, and I crushed down what I told myself was my mad love within my breast; but when, by accident, I found that I was wrong, and that no engagement existed between you and Luke Ross--"
"But there is, there is," she cried. "Once more, Mr Cyril, pray leave me."
"A few mere words of form, Sage. You do not love this man; and, besides, your relatives have not given their consent. Oh, listen to me.
Why should you condemn me to a life of reckless misery? You know how I have been drifting for years without an anchor to stay me. You are that anchor now. Let me cling to you for my father"s, my mother"s sake; for if you cast me off, continue this cruel wrong, you drive me once more from home, to go floating aimlessly, without a chance of becoming a better man. You cannot be so harsh."
"I cannot listen to you," she murmured. "I tell you," he cried, "that if you cast me off you condemn me to a life of misery and despair.
Sage, dear Sage," he cried, catching her hand, "I have been wild and foolish, but I have the making in me of a better man. Help me to live aright. You are so good, and pure, and sweet--so wise and gentle. Be my guide and helpmate, and those at home will bless you. Am I always to plead in vain?"
"How can I look Luke Ross in the eyes again if I listen to such words as these?"
"Luke Ross? Am I to stand idly by and let Luke Ross, the cold, careless cynic, s.n.a.t.c.h you from my arms?"
"How dare you speak of him like that?" she cried, angrily. "He is all that is wise and good."
"And worships you so dearly that he has gone away for three years, at least, to prove to you his love."
"It is a great act of n.o.ble forbearance," she said, proudly, "and you slander him by your words."
"I hope I do," he said; "but they were wrung from me by my misery and suffering. But no, I will not believe you can be so cruel to me. I know that I may hope."
They were nearing the gate leading into the great home field, and Sage, trembling and agitated to a terrible degree, hurried on, feeling that, once within sight of the house, Cyril Mallow would leave her. Her mind was confused, and the struggle going on between duty and inclination was terrible; while the knowledge that she was so weak and yielding towards her companion half maddened her for the time.
"Why do you hurry on so?" he pleaded. "Am I to be driven away? Am I to leave home, and go anywhere that fate may drift me?"
"Oh, no, no, no," she moaned. "This is too cruel to me. Pray, pray leave me now."
"Then I may hope?"