A New Sensation Part 34

She had covered every point, but like suitors the world over I would not believe her.

"Answer me a few questions," I said. "Yes, in justice to my proposal, which I cannot but feel does honor to both of us. Do you mean to say that your final declination of my offer is based on the fact that I read your private correspondence?"

"No, it would have been the same without that," she answered. "Let me add that I forgive you freely for what you did in that respect."

"Is it because--I want to understand perfectly--you think it dishonorable to wed a man richer than you, whose acquaintance you made in an unusual way?"

She shook her head in negation.

"Is there, then, anything that you have heard, or suspect, against my reputation?"

Again she shook her head decidedly.

I took up her letter and read:

If I were of his social grade--if I could have retained the position in which I was born, he would be my ideal. Such thoughts, alas! are not for your poor friend, Marjorie.

"Those words mean something," I said, earnestly.

Tears came into her eyes.

"Mr. Camran, do you think it is fair to press me like this?" she asked, with a sob.

"There is an adage," I replied, "that all is fair in love. To give you up means to shatter my existence. I have been a reckless boy. With you as my wife I would make a worthy man--worthy of you, of myself, of the n.o.ble line from which I sprung. I fear, and I say it deliberately, that if I lose you I shall sink again into the depths from which I have escaped."

"All that," she said, gently, "you said when your friend Statia gave you the same answer I am compelled to give now."

"It is jealousy!" I exclaimed, excitedly. "You are angry because I asked her, before I had even seen you! Very well. But, understand what you are doing! I cannot go through the agony I suffered a year ago."

She sprang up, as if to ward off an impending danger, and came so near that her face was within six inches of mine.

I looked her squarely in the eyes.

"You cannot fascinate me in that way!" I cried, bitterly. "You have ruined a man who has taken you from poverty and given you for two months, at least, the life of a lady. Don't put your hands on me!" as she attempted to touch my shoulder. "I have finished with you. Take the advance payment you have had and go to your home, if you have one. But, remember, by your own agreement, the clothes in which you stand belong to me. Take them off before you leave this room, give them up, or I will strip them from you by force!"

I do not know that I am quoting my exact words, but I am sure this was the sentiment that, in my rage, I expressed. At the moment I hated the woman more than I had loved her a few minutes before.

"You shall have them, every one," answered Miss May, without the least trace of excitement. "I will go immediately to the village and buy just enough articles of dress to make me fit to take pa.s.sage to America. All I had from you shall be packed in the trunks you bought and left behind."

"And the jewelry," I added, still blind with my disappointment, for she had received and was wearing it again. "Take those rings from your hands, those diamonds from your ears. They are mine, remember. That was our agreement. I broke into Wesson's trunk and reclaimed them. They are mine!"

At the mention of Wesson she paled even more than before, but complied with my request, laying the articles on the table before me, one by one.

"Good-by," she said, softly, going toward the door that led to her chamber.

Like an avalanche the horror of what I was doing swept over me. I rose, clutched wildly at the air, and fell, not unconscious, but with a deathly nausea. The next moment a woman's form was kneeling by my side and my head was raised to the support of a woman's arm.

"Forgive me--oh! forgive me!" was murmured convulsively in my ear.

CHAPTER XXIII.

A WEDDING RING.

For the next week I was a very sick man. I remember almost nothing of what happened, except that I was in bed and that Miss May was nursing me with all the care a mother gives an infant. Yes, I remember another thing--that Mr. Wesson came several times to my bedside and conversed in low tones with my companion and with a physician whom somebody had summoned. I was too weak to think much about it, or I should certainly have objected to his presence, but I knew in a dim way that he was there.

Afterwards I began slowly to regain my memory and my strength. My first attempts to engage in conversation were discouraged. Mr. Pomeroy, the proprietor of the house, came in and said sympathetically that if I wanted to get on my feet soon I must be very quiet. "Eddie" Armstrong, the manager, whom I had grown to like immensely, said the same thing. I obeyed their injunctions for several days more; but one morning I awoke so strong in heart that I announced my purpose of rising, though all the doctors in Christendom--or even in Barbados--forbade it.

Miss May hesitatingly brought my bath wrap and a.s.sisted me to sit up in bed. One movement upon my feet, however, had more effect than all her persuasions. I must wait a little longer. She propped me up and gave me a strengthening drink that was waiting upon a table. Then she sat by my side and, at my request, read extracts from some newspapers that she had obtained in the reading room below.

The news was all about a possible war with Spain, on account of the blowing up of the warship "Maine," in Havana Harbor. I grew indignant at the hot-heads in my country who were willing to plunge two nations in the horrors of war without waiting to see if a catastrophe could be honorably averted. When the reading was finished I lay pa.s.sive for a long time and then my thoughts reverted to the scene that preceded my illness.

"I am very, very sorry!" I murmured, drawing Marjorie toward me by the hand which she allowed to rest in mine.

"Sorry? For what?"

"My cruelty to you."

She bade me think no more of what had pa.s.sed, declaring that the blame, if any, was her own, and that, at least, I must not talk about it for the present. Her manner soothed me more than words and I lay very still, fondling the hand I held and occasionally murmuring grateful expressions. They came to me gradually--all the hateful things I had said and done; and I contrasted them, to my discredit, with the thoughtful care she was giving me.

The love that had vanished during my anger returned ten-fold.

The doctor came and looked wise. I would be able to sit up in a day or two, he said. Good nursing was what I most required now; as if I didn't know that as well as he! And I had the best nurse in the world--the one I wanted above all others. Could I only be a.s.sured I never would lose her!

On the third day I refused to heed longer the advice not to talk. I had too much to say that I wanted Marjorie to hear.

"If you really wish me to be quiet," I said, "you can stop me very easily. Tell me you will be my wife when we return to New York. Only say 'yes' and I will not speak another word."

She leaned over the bed, pushing my hair back gently with her soft white hand.

"Only that one word, Marjorie; only that one! And then we will both be still."

"When--we return--to New York," she answered, slowly, with a pause between the syllables, "I have--something--of great importance to--tell you. If--after that--you persist in your question--I--I--"

"That is enough," was my joyful reply. "You will leave it to me? Dear girl, I ask no more. G.o.d bless and keep you!"

I fell asleep early that evening and did not waken once till the sun had risen. Then the medicine she had given me showed its efficacious power.

I was quite able to rise and even to take my breakfast at the table in the sitting-room with her. Once started on the road to recovery each hour showed a rapid gain. In another day I was taken for a short drive.

The next I remained dressed from morning till night, though I reclined part of the time on a sofa.

And I could think of nothing but returning to the United States. The sooner the better now, when the wish of my life was to be granted there.

Marjorie showed herself a woman of wonderful capacity in more ways than one. She arranged with the Colonial Bank officials to have a draft all ready for me to sign when I drove up one day for money, thus saving what must have proved a weary wait. She bought new steamer chairs, the others having been left carelessly on the Pretoria. She paid the hotel bill and made all arrangements for our departure, having taken pains to learn which steamer would take us away the soonest. We were to go on a Royal Mail boat, "the Don," (happy omen!) to Jamaica, being sure of plenty of American steamers from that point.

On the day we were to depart I was nearly as strong as ever. Bidding farewell with some regrets to all the guests I knew, to the proprietor, the manager, Miss Byno and the brown-eyed bicyclist, I entered the carriage with really a light heart.