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Thor's heart bounded with a great hope. Perhaps Claude was not in love with her. He had not been noticeably moved as yet. In that case it might be possible--barely possible--that after Rosie had outlived her disappointment there might be a chance that he.... But he dared not speculate. Mustering everything that was histrionic within him, he said, with the art that conceals art, "I think you are--decidedly."
Claude rolled partly over in bed. "That's about it."
The confession was as full as one brother could expect from another.
Thor's heart sank again. He managed, however, to keep on the high plane of art as he brought out the words, "And what about her?"
Again Claude's avowal was as ardent as the actual conditions called for.
"Oh, I guess she's all right."
"So--what now?"
Claude rolled back toward his brother, raising his head slightly from the pillow. "Well--what now?"
"You're going to be married, I suppose?"
Claude lifted himself on his elbow. "Married on fifteen hundred a year?"
He went on, before Thor could say anything, "If there was nothing else to consider!"
Thor felt stirrings of hope again. "Then, if you're not going to be married, what do you mean?"
"What do I mean? What can I mean?"
"Oh, come, Claude! You're not a boy any longer. You know perfectly well that a man of honor--with your traditions--can't trifle with a girl like that--or break her heart--or--or ruin her."
"I'm not doing any of the three. She knows I'm not. She knows I'm only in the same box she's in herself."
"That is, you're both in love, without seeing how you're going to--"
Claude lurched forward in the bed. "Look here, Thor; if you want to know, it's this. I've tried to leave the girl alone--and I can't. I'm worse than a d.a.m.n fool; I'm every sort of a hound. I can't marry her, and I can't give her up. When I haven't seen her for a week, I'm frantic; and when I do see her I swear to G.o.d I'll never see her again.
So now you know."
Claude threw himself back again on the pillows, but Thor went on, quietly: "Why do you swear to G.o.d you'll never see her again?"
"Because I'm killing her. That is, I should be killing her if she wasn't the bravest little brick on earth. You don't know her, Thor. You've seen her, and you know she's pretty; but you don't know that she's as plucky as they make 'em--pluckier."
Thor answered, wearily, "I've rather guessed that, which is one of the reasons why I feel you should be true to her."
"I am true to her--truer than I ought to be. If I was less true it would be better for us both. She'd get over it--"
Again Thor was aware of an up-leaping hope. "And you, too?"
"Oh, I suppose so--in time."
"Yes, but you'd suffer."
Claude gave another lurch forward in the bed. "I couldn't suffer worse than I'm suffering now, knowing I'm an infernal cad--and not seeing how to be anything else."
"But you wouldn't be an infernal cad if you married her."
The young man flung himself about the bed impatiently. "Oh, what's the use of talking?"
"If she had money you could marry her all right."
"Ah, go to the devil, Thor!" The tone was one of utter exasperation.
Thor persisted. "If she had, let us say, four or five thousand dollars a year of her own--"
Claude stretched his person half-way out of bed. "I said--go to the devil!"
"Well, she has."
"Has what?"
"Four or five thousand dollars a year of her own. That is, she _will_ have it, if you and she get married."
"Say, Thor, have you got the jimjams?"
"I'm speaking quite seriously, Claude. I've always intended to do something to help you out when I got hold of Grandpa Thorley's money; and, if you like, I'll do it that way."
"Do it what way?"
"The way I say. If you and Rosie get married, she shall have five thousand a year of her own."
"From you?"
Thor nodded.
The younger brother looked at the elder curiously. It was a long minute before he spoke. "If it's to help me out, why don't _I_ have it? I'm your brother. I should think I'd be the one."
"Because I'd rather do it that way. It would be a means of evening things up. It would make her more like your equal. You know as well as I do that father and mother will kick like blazes; but if Rosie has money--"
"If Rosie has money they'll know she gets it from somewhere. They won't think it comes down to her out of heaven."
"They can think what they like. They needn't know that I have anything to do with it. They know you haven't got five thousand a year, and if she has--why, there'll be the solid cash to convince them. The whole thing will be a pill for them; but if it's gilded--"
Claude's knees were drawn up in the bed, his hands clasped about them.
Thor noticed the strangeness of his expression, but he was unprepared for his words when they came out. "Say, Thor, you're _not_ in love with her yourself, are you?"
Owing to what he believed to be the perfection of his acting, it was the question Thor had least expected to be called on to answer. He knew he was turning white or green, and that his smile when he forced it was nothing but a ghastly movement of the mouth. It was his turn to gain time, but he could think of nothing more forcible than, "What makes you ask me that?"
"Because it looks so funny--so d.a.m.ned funny."
"There's nothing funny in my trying to give a lift to my own brother, is there?"
"N-no; perhaps not. But, see here, Thor--" He leaned forward. "You're not in love with her, are you?"
Thor knew the supreme moment of his life had come, that he should never reach another like it. It was within his power to seize the cup and drain it--or thrust it aside. Of all temptations he had ever had to meet none had been so strong as this. It was the stronger for his knowing that if it was conquered now it would probably never return. He would have put himself beyond reach of its returning. That in itself appalled him. There was some joy in feeling the temptation there, as a thing to be dallied with. He dallied with it now. He dallied with it to the extent of saying, with a smile he tried to temper to playfulness: