I said: "You have a way with men. None is insensible to your youth and beauty."
"Is it so?" she asked innocently.
"Are you not aware of it?"
"I had thought that I pleased."
"You do so. Best tread discreetly. Best consider carefully now. Then choose one and dismiss the rest."
"Choose?"
"Aye."
"Whom should I choose, John Drogue?"
"Why," said I, losing countenance, "there is the same ardent rabble like that plague of suitors which importuned the Greek Penelope. There are the sap-pan flies all buzzing."
"Oh. Should I make a choice if entreated?"
"A burgesse is free to choose."
"Oh. And to which suitor should I give my smile?"
"Well," said I, sullenly, "there is Nick. There also is your Cornet of Horse--young Jack-boots. And there is the young gentleman whose picture you wear in your bosom."
"Captain Watts?" she asked, so navely that jealousy stabbed me instantly, so that my smile became a grimace.
"Sure," said I, "you think tenderly on Stephen Watts."
"Yes."
"In fact," I almost groaned, "you entertain for him those virtuous sentiments not unbecoming to the maiden of his choice.... Do you not, Penelope?"
"He has courted me a year. I find him agreeable. Also, I pity him--although his impatience causes me concern and his ardour inconveniences me.... The sentiments I entertain for him are virtuous, as you say, sir. And so are my sentiments for any man."
"But is not your heart engaged in this affair?"
"With Captain Watts?"
"Yes."
"Oh, I thought you meant with you, sir."
I affected to smile, but my heart thumped my ribs.
"I have not pretended to your heart, Penelope."
"No, sir. Nor I to yours. And, for the matter, know nothing concerning hearts and the deeper pretensions to secret pa.s.sions of which one hears so much in gossip and romance. No, sir; I am ignorant. Yet, I have thought that kindness might please a woman more easily than sighs and vapours.... Or so it seems to me.... And that impatient ardour only perplexes.... And pa.s.sion often chills the natural pity that a woman entertains for any man who vows he is unhappy and must presently perish of her indifference....
"Yet I am not indifferent to men.... And have used men gently.... And forgiven them.... Being not hard but pitiful by disposition."
She made a movement of unconscious grace and drew from her bosom the little picture of Steve Watts.
"You see," said she, "I guard it tenderly. But he went off in a pa.s.sion and rebuked me bitterly for my coquetry and because I refused to flee with him to Canada.... He, being an enemy to liberty, I would not consent.... I love my country.... And better than I love any man."
"He begged an elopement that night?"
"Yes."
"With marriage promised, doubtless."
"Lord," says she, "I had not thought so far."
"Did he not promise it?"
"No, sir."
"What? Nor mention it?"
"I did not hear him."
"But in his courtship of a year surely he conducted honestly!" I insisted angrily.
"Should a man ask marriage when he asks love, Mr. Drogue?"
"If he means honestly he must speak of it."
"Oh.... I did not understand.... I thought that love, offered, meant marriage also.... I thought they all meant that--save only Sir John."
We both fell silent. After a little while: "I shall some day ask Captain Watts what he means," said she, thoughtfully. "Surely he must know I am a maiden."
"Do you suppose such young men care!" I said sullenly.
But she seemed so white and distressed at the thought that the sneer died on my lips and I made a great effort to do generously by my old school-mate, Stevie Watts.
"Surely," said I, "he meant no disrespect and no harm. Stephen Watts is not of the corrupt breed of Walter Butler nor debauched like Sir John.... However, if he is to be your lover--perhaps it were convenient to ask him something concerning his respectful designs upon you."
"Yes, sir, I shall do so--if he comes. .h.i.ther again."
So hope, which had fallen a-flickering, expired like a tiny flame. She loved Steve Watts!
I turned and limped up the stairway.
And, at the stair-head, met Nick.
"Well," said I savagely, "you may not have her. For she loves Steve Watts and dotes on his picture in her bosom. And as for you, you may go to the devil!"
"Why, you sorry a.s.s," says he, "have you thought I desired her?"