Garth Dalmain stood beside her.He did not touch her, nor did he speak again.He felt sure he had won; and his whole soul was filled with a gladness unspeakable.His spirit was content.The intense silence seemed more expressive than words.Any ordinary touch would have dimmed the sense of those moments when her hands had held him to her.So he stood quite still and waited.
At last Jane spoke."Do you mean that you wish to ask me to be--to be THAT--to you?""Yes, dear," he answered, gently; but in his voice vibrated the quiet of strong self-control."At least I came out here intending to ask it of you.But I cannot ask it now, beloved.I can't ask you TOBE what you ARE already.No promise, no ceremony, no giving or receiving of a ring, could make you more my wife than you have been just now in those wonderful moments."Jane slowly turned and looked at him.She had never seen anything so radiant as his face.But still those shining eyes smote her like swords.She longed to cover them with her hands; or bid him look away over the woods and water, while he went on saying these sweet things to her.She put up one foot on the low parapet, leaned her elbow on her knee, and shielded her face with her hand.Then she answered him, trying to speak calmly.
"You have taken me absolutely by surprise, Dal.I knew you had been delightfully nice and attentive since the concert evening, and that our mutual understanding of music and pleasure in it, coupled with an increased intimacy brought about by our confidential conversation under the cedar, had resulted in an unusually close and delightful friendship.I honestly admit it seems to have--it has--meant more to me than any friendship has ever meant.But that was partly owing to your temperament, Dal, which tends to make you always the most vivid spot in one's mental landscape.But truly I thought you wanted me out here in order to pour out confidences about Pauline Lister.
Everybody believes that her loveliness has effected your final capture, and truly, Dal, truly--I thought so, too." Jane paused.
"Well?" said the quiet voice, with its deep undertone of gladness.
"You know otherwise now."
"Dal--you have so startled and astonished me.I cannot give you an answer to-night.You must let me have until to-morrow--to-morrow morning.""But, beloved," he said tenderly, moving a little nearer, "there is no more need for you to answer than I felt need to put a question.
Can't you realise this? Question and answer were asked and given just now.Oh, my dearest--come back to me.Sit down again."But Jane stood rigid.
"No," she said."I can't allow you to take things for granted in this way.You took me by surprise, and I lost my head utterly--unpardonably, I admit.But, my dear boy, marriage is a serious thing.Marriage is not a mere question of sentiment.It has to wear.
It has to last.It must have a solid and dependable foundation, to stand the test and strain of daily life together.I know so many married couples intimately.I stay in their homes, and act sponsor to their children; with the result that I vowed never to risk it myself.And now I have let you put this question, and you must not wonder if I ask for twelve hours to think it over."Garth took this silently.He sat down on the stone coping with his back to the lake and, leaning backward, tried to see her face; but the hand completely screened it.He crossed his knees and clasped both hands around them, rocking slightly backward and forward for a minute while mastering the impulse to speak or act violently.He strove to compose his mind by fixing it upon trivial details which chanced to catch his eye.His red socks showed clearly in the moonlight against the white paving of the terrace, and looked well with black patent-leather shoes.He resolved always to wear red silk socks in the evening, and wondered whether Jane would knit some for him.He counted the windows along the front of the house, noting which were his and which were Jane's, and how many came between.At last he knew he could trust himself, and, leaning back, spoke very gently, his dark head almost touching the lace of her sleeve.
"Dearest--tell me, didn't you feel just now--""Oh, hush!".cried Jane, almost harshly, "hush, Dal! Don't talk about feelings with this question between us.Marriage is fact, not feeling.If you want to do really the best thing for us both, go straight indoors now and don't speak to me again to-night.I heard you say you were going to try the organ in the church on the common at eleven o'clock to-morrow morning.Well--I will come there soon after half-past eleven and listen while you play; and at noon you can send away the blower, and I will give you my answer.But now--oh, go away, dear; for truly I cannot bear anymore.I must be left alone."Garth loosed the strong fingers clasped so tightly round his knee.
He slipped the hand next to her along the stone coping, close to her foot.She felt him take hold of her gown with those deft, masterful fingers.Then he bent his dark head quickly, and whispering: "I kiss the cross," with a gesture of infinite reverence and tenderness, which Jane never forgot, he kissed the hem of her skirt.The next moment she was alone.
She listened while his footsteps died away.She heard the door into the lower hall open and close.Then slowly she sat down just as she had sat when he knelt in front of her.Now she was quite alone.The tension of these last hard moments relaxed.She pressed both hands over the lace at her bosom where that dear, beautiful, adoring face had been hidden.Had she FELT, he asked.Ah! what had she not felt?
Tears never came easily to Jane.But to-night she had been called a name by which she had never thought to be called; and already her honest heart was telling her she would never be called by it again.
