The incident remained uppermost in her thoughts all the rest of the afternoon. If she had known about this excursion the day before, she would have put on a different shirt-waist. She had a new silk waist which was very pretty and which she had meant to wear next Sunday.
He met her at the Elevated station, but it was she who had to direct him to the proper trolley for Coney, or they might have landed anywhere along the Sound.
Stopping only long enough to buy an ice for supper and a bag of peanuts, they sought the beach. He threw himself down full length on the sand, and she sat with her hands clasped over her knees. The salt air swept her cheeks and cooled them, and the waves before her ran up the beach in play and song. This was certainly a decided improvement over such a night in her room.
"See those stars!" he exclaimed, as if this were the first time he had ever seen them.
She lifted her eyes and looked at them.
"I often look at them," she said.
Then she laughed gently to herself.
"Do you know what I do when I"m silly enough to want jewels?" she asked.
"What?"
"I take a look at those stars, and then I don"t want jewels any more."
"A man could give away diamonds by the handful if women would take that kind," he exclaimed. "See that big fellow up there?" He pointed it out, and she nodded.
"I"ll give you that one," he offered.
She laughed lightly--confidently.
"But I don"t have to come to you or to any one," she reminded him. "I can just give it to myself."
"That isn"t quite the same thing, is it?"
No, it was not quite the same thing. She knew it. But she was not telling all she knew.
"It"s a wonder to me you"ve never married," he said.
She caught her breath. She had come to look for unexpected remarks from him, but this was a trifle more unexpected than usual. She tried to laugh as she usually did, but she could not laugh.
"I suppose you"ve figured out that, with all your free diamonds, you"re better off as you are," he suggested.
She did not answer.
"Is that the way of it?" he persisted.
She tried to make her voice natural, but there was a tightening in her throat.
"I haven"t done much figuring of any kind along that line," she said.
He was looking out to sea.
"I don"t know but what both men and women are better off unmarried,"
he said.
"They aren"t," she answered.
It was some one within her rather than she herself who spoke. He turned to look at her, but her eyes were out at sea.
"You mean that?" he said.
"I mean it," she answered.
"Even if a man hasn"t much money?"
She turned her eyes again to the sky.
"What has money to do with the stars?" she asked.
"Do you think a man in my position has any right to ask a woman to marry him?"
"What has your position to do with it?" she asked.
"It has a lot if the woman wants five times what I"m earning," he answered.
She gave a little startled cry. The stars swam before her.
"Oh!" she gasped. "You mean--you mean you"re thinking of some one like--like that?"
"Yes," he answered.
He had a vague notion this was not the sort of thing one ordinarily discussed with another woman. But Miss Winthrop was different from other women: she had both experience and common sense.
"I asked her to marry me a year ago," he said.
The stars were still swimming before her.
"And--and she said--?"
"She said she thought I ought to wait until I was earning ten thousand."
"And that"s the reason you--you wanted the ten thousand?"
"Yes. You didn"t think I wanted it for myself, did you?"
"I didn"t know," she answered.
It was like a load removed from his shoulders. He breathed freer.
"You"re the most sensible woman I ever met, and I thought you could help me."
She hated that word sensible now, though when Mr. Seagraves had used it to her it had seemed like a compliment.
"You see, I had plenty of money when we were first engaged, and so it didn"t make any difference, even if she had plenty too. Then, when Dad tied up my share, why, it made things different. We talked it over and decided that ten thousand was about right; but--well, I didn"t think it would take so long to get it."