The Belton Estate Part 9

"And intimately?"

"Very intimately. She is our only neighbour; and her being here has certainly been a great comfort to me. It is sad not having some woman near one that one can speak to;--and then, I really do like her very much."

"No doubt it's all right."

"Yes; it's all right," said Clara. After that there was nothing more said about Mrs. Askerton, and Belton began his work. They had gone from the cottage, across the park, away from the house, up to a high rock which stood boldly out of the ground, from whence could be seen the sea on one side, and on the other a far tract of country almost away to the moors. And when they reached this spot they seated themselves. "There," said Clara, "I consider this to be the prettiest spot in England."

"I haven't seen all England," said Belton.

"Don't be so matter-of-fact, Will. I say it's the prettiest in England, and you can't contradict me."

"And I say you're the prettiest girl in England, and you can't contradict me."

This annoyed Clara, and almost made her feel that her paragon of a cousin was not quite so perfect as she had represented him to be. "I see," she said, "that if I talk nonsense I'm to be punished."

"Is it a punishment to you to know that I think you very handsome?"

he said, turning round and looking full into her face.

"It is disagreeable to me--very, to have any such subject talked about at all. What would you think if I began to pay you foolish personal compliments?"

"What I say isn't foolish; and there's a great difference. Clara, I love you better than all the world put together."

She now looked at him; but still she did not believe it. It could not be that after all her boastings she should have made so gross a blunder. "I hope you do love me," she said; "indeed, you are bound to do so, for you promised that you would be my brother."

"But that will not satisfy me now, Clara. Clara, I want to be your husband."

"Will!" she exclaimed.

"Now you know it all; and if I have been too sudden, I must beg your pardon."

"Oh, Will, forget that you have said this. Do not go on until everything must be over between us."

"Why should anything be over between us? Why should it be wrong in me to love you?"

"What will papa say?"

"Mr. Amedroz knows all about it already, and has given me his consent. I asked him directly I had made up my own mind, and he told me that I might go to you."

"You have asked papa? Oh dear, oh dear, what am I to do?"

"Am I so odious to you then?" As he said this he got up from his seat and stood before her. He was a tall, well-built, handsome man, and he could a.s.sume a look and mien that were almost n.o.ble when he was moved as he was moved now.

"Odious! Do you not know that I have loved you as my cousin--that I have already learned to trust you as though you were really my brother? But this breaks it all."

"You cannot love me then as my wife?"

"No." She p.r.o.nounced the monosyllable alone, and then he walked away from her as though that one little word settled the question for him, now and for ever. He walked away from her, perhaps a distance of two hundred yards, as though the interview was over, and he were leaving her. She, as she saw him go, wished that he would return that she might say some word of comfort to him. Not that she could have said the only word that would have comforted him. At the first blush of the thing, at the first sound of the address which he had made to her, she had been angry with him. He had disappointed her, and she was indignant. But her anger had already melted and turned itself to ruth. She could not but love him better, in that he had loved her so well; but yet she could not love him with the love which he desired.

But he did not leave her. When he had gone from her down the hill the distance that has been named, he turned back, and came up to her slowly. He had a trick of standing and walking with his thumbs fixed into the armholes of his waistcoat, while his large hands rested on his breast. He would always a.s.sume this att.i.tude when he was a.s.sured that he was right in his views, and was eager to carry some point at issue. Clara already understood that this att.i.tude signified his intention to be autocratic. He now came close up to her, and again stood over her, before he spoke. "My dear," he said, "I have been rough and hasty in what I have said to you, and I have to ask you to pardon my want of manners."

"No, no, no," she exclaimed.

"But in a matter of so much interest to us both you will not let an awkward manner prejudice me."

"It is not that; indeed, it is not."

"Listen to me, dearest. It is true that I promised to be your brother, and I will not break my word unless I break it by your own sanction. I did promise to be your brother, but I did not know then how fondly I should come to love you. Your father, when I told him of this, bade me not to be hasty; but I am hasty, and I haven't known how to wait. Tell me that I may come at Christmas for my answer, and I will not say a word to trouble you till then. I will be your brother, at any rate till Christmas."

"Be my brother always."

A black cloud crossed his brow as this request reached his ears.

She was looking anxiously into his face, watching every turn in the expression of his countenance. "Will you not let it wait till Christmas?" he asked.

She thought it would be cruel to refuse this request, and yet she knew that no such waiting could be of service to him. He had been awkward in his love-making, and was aware of it. He should have contrived this period of waiting for himself; giving her no option but to wait and think of it. He should have made no proposal, but have left her certain that such proposal was coming. In such case she must have waited--and if good could have come to him from that, he might have received it. But, as the question was now presented to her, it was impossible that she should consent to wait. To have given such consent would have been tantamount to receiving him as her lover. She was therefore forced to be cruel.

"It will be of no avail to postpone my answer when I know what it must be. Why should there be suspense?"

"You mean that it is impossible that you should love me?"

"Not in that way, Will."

"And why not?" Then there was a pause. "But I am a fool to ask such a question as that, and I should be worse than a fool were I to press it. It must then be considered as settled?"

She got up and clung to his arm. "Oh, Will, do not look at me like that!"

"It must then be considered as settled?" he repeated.

"Yes, Will, yes. Pray consider it as settled." He then sat down on the rock again, and she came and sat by him,--near to him, but not close as she had been before. She turned her eyes upon him, gazing on him, but did not speak to him; and he sat also without speaking for a while, with his eyes fixed upon the ground. "I suppose we may go back to the house?" he said at last.

"Give me your hand, Will, and tell me that you will still love me--as your sister."

He gave her his hand. "If you ever want a brother's care you shall have it from me," he said.

"But not a brother's love?"

"No. How can the two go together? I shan't cease to love you because my love is in vain. Instead of making me happy it will make me wretched. That will be the only difference."

"I would give my life to make you happy, if that were possible."

"You will not give me your life in the way that I would have it."

After that they walked in silence back to the house, and when he had opened the front door for her, he parted from her and stood alone under the porch, thinking of his misfortune.

CHAPTER VI.

SAFE AGAINST LOVE-MAKING ONCE AGAIN.