"It is no sudden act. Richard is too noble to accept it if it
were. I have always loved him,--not exactly as I loved Arthur, it
is true."
Here the whirlpool underneath threatened to betray itself, but
with a mighty effort Edith kept it down, and the current was
unruffled as she continued,
"Arthur is nearer my age--nearer my beau ideal, but I can't have
him, and I'm not going to play the part of a love-lorn damsel for
a married man. Tell him so when you write. Tell him I'm engaged to
Richard just as he said I would be. Tell him I'm happy, too, for I
know I'm doing right. It is not wicked to love Richard and it was
wicked to love him."
It cost Edith more to say this than she supposed, and when she
finished, the perspiration stood in drops beneath her hair and
about her mouth.
"You are deceiving yourself," said Grace, who, without any selfish
motive now, really pitied the hard, white-faced girl, so unlike
the Edith of other days. "You are taking Richard from gratitude,
nothing else. Victor told me of your parentage, but because he
saved your life, you need not render yours as a return.
Pages:
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417