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"Forgive me," he said as she came nearer. "I had no idea it would be like this."
She did not take the hand he extended, but folding her arms behind her, she stood quite still and stared. "I'm so sorry! But I don't understand you at all."
"You need not try. I don't understand myself. I have never been through anything like this in all my life. I thought instinct would lead you right to me. I never questioned but that you would understand. But don't try, for I can't explain. This afternoon I had just one thought: to tell you how I love you. I thought it would make me happy. Happy!" He laughed bitterly. "I didn't stop to reason. It seems I have no reason."
"Mr. McGowan, please stop! You frighten me," cried the girl, drawing away again as he limped a step in her direction.
"Hate!" That one word was like the sharp sudden sting of a whip. "I hate this age of social position, where money stands above the man. I hate the sh.e.l.l of so-called good families, as if lineage made the man, instead of man making the lineage. I hate----"
"You must stop! Love that gives such torment as you have been describing to me is apt to turn out as nothing more than infatuation. I care for you, but in no such way as you have indicated to me. I want you for a friend. Don't spoil that!"
He hobbled off down the beach as rapidly as his limping foot could travel. The girl came to his side and slipped her arm through his. "Lean on me just as heavily as you like," she urged. "I know you think me unkind and cruel, but I do so want to help you." Her voice broke unsteadily.
"I don't think you unkind, Miss Fox," replied the minister as he accepted her proffered a.s.sistance. "The cruel thing is this that has been burning within like fire. If you only knew----"
"Mr. McGowan,"--she interrupted kindly,--"I cannot tell you as to the height of esteem in which I hold you. Nothing can ever harm that. But even if I cared for you as you ask of me, don't you see how impossible it would be for me to go back on Father? I can't help but think there must be some real reason for the att.i.tude he has taken against you."
"Do you honestly believe what you have just said?"
"Is there any reason why I should not believe it?"
"I suppose not," he replied, heavy fatigue in his voice.
She saw from his averted face that her question had pained him. She wanted to speak, to soften her question, but no words came to her dry lips.
The way home was traveled in silence. They reached the pile of stones below her father's place, and Elizabeth released her aching arm. In silence they watched the strangely mottled effect where the moonlight fell in patches across the water as the clouds flitted past. A patter of rain, accompanied by a sharp whistle of wind, warned them of coming storm.
"I'll go up the path with you, and go home by the road," volunteered the minister.
"No, indeed. It will be much easier walking for you along the beach, and you'll not need to climb any hill. I'll call to you from the back gate, and you'll know I'm safe." She turned toward him once more. "Harold came home to-day, and Father has been worse since that. Harold found out something about the man he went over to Australia to look up. He must have told Father about it to-day. Since then he has been in a terrible state of mind. It seems that Harold found out something about you, too."
Mr. McGowan was too surprised to reply.
"Against you, Father says. I was not going to tell you this, but you have compelled me to do it by what you said to me. I know nothing of your past life."
"Miss Fox, will you be kind enough to explain?"
"I have nothing to explain. All I know is that from the way Father acted it must not be to your credit."
He looked his amazement.
"Good night," she said, extending her hand. "You will not forget what you said about the way one should do in boxing, will you?"
He smiled faintly.
"Mr. McGowan, you are not going to disappoint me, are you?"
"Would it make much difference? You seem to have already formed your opinion from the things you have heard."
"If you are going to give up like that it will make no difference what you do. I thought you were more of a man than that."
She turned and ran up the path. At the top of the pile of stones she stopped, her slim outline silhouetted in clear-cut lines against a patch of moonlight, and her loosened hair giving the suggestion of a halo as the mellow light played through. She lifted her hand as she declared, "And you are more of a man. I do not believe that whatever Father thinks he has found out can harm you in the least. That is what we really quarreled about to-day. Does that tell you how much I care? 'Now is the time when you need to summon every ounce of self-control you possess.
When other men are seeking to land the knock-out blow you should keep your head the coolest, for unless you do you cannot make your best calculations.' You see, I have not forgotten, and neither must you. And in everything, Mack," she finished, hurriedly.
The rear gate clicked, and she sent him a light trill.
The minister went to his study as soon as he reached home. For hours he sat, his mind a blank. He was roused at last by the opening of his study door. He looked up into the face of his old friend. The blue eyes, usually clear and steady, had a faded look as though the fire in them had suddenly gone out.
CHAPTER XI
"I've been shut up with the most onreasonable feller I ever see in all my life," said the Captain to the unasked question in the minister's eyes. "I cal'late I'll keep my thoughts to myself to-night, Mack, and sleep on them. The way I feel wouldn't be conducive to prayer-meeting language. Good night, son."
It was scarcely daylight when Miss Pipkin began work in the kitchen on the following morning. Shortly afterward the Captain descended.
"Morning, Clemmie." He held the kitchen door ajar, and his voice wavered as he spoke.
Miss Pipkin did not reply. The Captain, to reinforce his courage, stepped back into the dining-room. Miss Pipkin walked over and closed the door. This spurred the seaman to action. He cautiously pushed the door open again, and peeped through a narrow crack.
"Clemmie, be you in there?"
"Where else do you think I'd be, down the well?"
"Can't I talk to you, Clemmie?"
"No. I don't want you to come sneaking into my kitchen at this hour in the morning. You ought to be in bed."
A note of friendliness in her voice led him to open the door a little wider.
"You're up too early, Clemmie."
"I've got a lot of work to do."
"If you ain't too busy, I'd like awful well to speak to you about something."
"Well, I am busy, leastwise too busy to be bothered with your nonsense."
"It ain't foolishness this time."
Something in his tone made her look up into the face framed in the crack of the door.
"Josiah!" she cried at sight of the drawn features.
He threw open the door and entered.
"Mr. McGowan ain't sick this morning, is he?" she asked.