"Think well of what I have said. Reflect upon my words. Surely it is best to end our friendship when you know how impossible it is for me to love you in return."
"Then you will not allow me to take the place in your heart that your lost lover once occupied?" I said, with deep disappointment.
"It is impossible!" she answered, shaking her head gravely. "The love which comes to each of us once in a lifetime is like no other. If doomed to misfortune, it can never be replaced. None can fill the breach in a wounded heart."
"That is only too true," I was compelled to admit. "Yet I cannot relinquish you, Aline, because I love you."
"You are infatuated--like other men have been," she said, with a faint, pitying smile. "Holding you in esteem as I do, I regret it."
"Why?"
"This is but the second time we have met, and you know nothing of my character," she pointed out. "Your love is, therefore, mere admiration."
I shook my head. Her argument was unconvincing.
"Well," she went on, "_I_ only desire that you should release me from this bond of friendship formed by your kindness to me the other night.
It would be better for you, better for me, if we parted this evening never to again meet."
"That"s impossible. I must see you from time to time, even though you may endeavour to put me from you. I do not fear this mysterious evil which you prophesy, because loving you as firmly as I do, no harm can befall me."
"Ah, no!" she cried. "Do not say that. Think that the evil in the world is far stronger than the good; that sin is in the ascendency, and that the honest and upright are in the minority. Remember that no man is infallible, and that ill-fortune always strikes those who are least prepared to withstand the shock."
I remained silent. She spoke so earnestly, and with such heartfelt concern for my welfare, that I was half-convinced of her sincerity of purpose. The calmness of her words and her dignity of bearing was utterly mystifying. Outwardly she was a mere girl, timid, unused to the world and its ways, honest-eyed and open-faced; yet her words were those of a woman who had had a long and bitter experience of loves and hatreds, and to whom a lover was no new experience. Beneath these strange declarations there was, I felt certain, some hidden meaning, but its nature I utterly failed to grasp.
I was young, impetuous, madly in love with this mysterious, beautiful woman who had come so suddenly into my otherwise happy, irresponsible life, and I had made my declaration of affection without counting the cost.
"I care not what evil may fall upon me," I said boldly, holding her hand in tightening grip. "I have heard you, and have decided that I will love you, Aline."
Again I raised her hand, and in silence she allowed me to kiss her fingers, without seeking to withdraw them.
She only sighed. I thought there was a pa.s.sing look of pity in her eyes for a single moment, but could not decide whether it had really been there or whether it was merely imaginary.
"Then, if that is your decision, so let it be!" she murmured hoa.r.s.ely.
And we were silent for a long time.
I looked into her beautiful eyes in admiration, for was I not now her lover? Was not Aline Cloud my beloved?
The dying day darkened into night, and Simes entering to draw down the blinds compelled us to converse on topics far from our inmost thoughts.
She allowed me to smoke, but when I invited her to dine, she firmly declined.
"No," she answered. "For to-day this is sufficient. I regret that I called to visit you--I shall regret it all my life through."
"Why?" I demanded, dismayed. "Ah, don"t say that, Aline! Remember that you"ve permitted me to love you."
"I have only permitted what I cannot obviate," she answered, in a hard, strained voice. I saw that tears were in her eyes, and that she was now filled with regret.
Yet I loved her, and felt that my true, honest affection must sooner or later be reciprocated.
Without further word she rose, drew on her gloves, placed her warm cape around her shoulders and pulled down her veil. Then she stretched forth her hand.
"You will not remain and dine? Do!" I urged.
"Not to-night," she answered, in a voice quite different from her usual tone. "I will accept your invitation on another occasion."
"When shall I see you?" I asked. "May I hope to-morrow?"
"I will call when it is possible," she replied. "You say you love me.
Then promise me one thing."
"Anything you wish I am ready to grant," I answered.
"Then do not write to me, or seek me. I will call and see you whenever my time admits."
"But may I not write?" I asked.
"No," she answered firmly. "No letters must pa.s.s between us."
I saw that she meant to enforce this condition, therefore did not argue, but reluctantly took leave of her after her refusal to allow me to accompany her back to Hampstead.
Again she allowed me to kiss her hand, then turning slowly she sighed and pa.s.sed out, preceded by Simes, who opened the door for her.
I sank back into my chair when the door closed upon her, puzzled yet ecstatic. This woman, the most beautiful I had ever seen, had allowed me to love her.
I had at last an object in life. Aline Cloud was my well-beloved, and I would live only for her. In those moments, as I sat alone gazing into the fire, I became filled with a great content, for infatuation had overwhelmed me.
The clock striking seven at last aroused me to a sense of hunger, and I rose to dross before going along to the club to dine. As I did so, however, my eyes suddenly fell upon the mantel-shelf, and I stood amazed, dumbfounded, rooted to the spot.
Upon the shelf there had been a small wooden medallion, a specimen of the Russian peasants" carving, representing the head of a Madonna--I had bought it in Moscow a year before--but an utterly astounding thing had occurred.
I could scarce believe my own eyes.
It had been consumed by an unseen fire, just as the crucifix had been, and nothing but a little white ash now remained!
"Good heavens!" I gasped; and with my finger touched the ashes.
They were still warm!
I stood wondering, my gaze fixed upon the consumed Madonna, reflecting that upon the occasion of Aline"s last visit my crucifix was destroyed in the same manner by some unseen agency, and now, strangely enough, this second sacred emblem in my possession had with her presence disappeared, falling into ashes beneath my very eyes.
The mysterious influence of evil she confessed to possessing was here ill.u.s.trated in a manner that was unmistakable.
In an instant all the strange words she had uttered swept through my bewildered brain as I stood there terrified, aghast.
The mystery surrounding her was as inexplicable as it was startling.
CHAPTER FIVE.