Dawn

  CHAPTER LXIII

  "Then you will not marry now, Mildred?" said Arthur, after a pause.

  "No, Arthur."

  "No one?"

  "No one, Arthur."

  He rose, and, leaning over the railing of the verandah, looked at thesea. The mist that hid it was drifting and eddying hither and thitherbefore little puffs of wind, and the clear sky was clouding up.

  "There is going to be a storm," he said, presently.

  "Yes, I think so, the air feels like it."

  He hesitated a while, and looked down at her. She seemed very lovelyin the half lights, as indeed she was. She, too, looked up at himinquiringly. At last he spoke.

  "Mildred, you said just now that you would not marry anybody. Will youmake an exception?--will you marry me?"

  It was her turn to pause now.

  "You are very good," she murmured.

  "No, I am not at all good. You know how the case stands. You know thatI still love Angela, and that I shall in all probability always loveher. I cannot help that. But if you will have me, Mildred, I will tryto be a good husband to you, and to make you happy. Will you marry me,dear?"

  "No, Arthur."

  "Why not? Have you, then, ceased to care for me?"

  "No, dear. I love you more than ever. You cannot dream how much I dolove you."

  "Then why will you not marry me? Is it because of this business?"

  "No," and raising herself in the low chair, she looked at him withintense earnestness, "that is not the reason. I will not marry you,because I have become a better woman since you went away, because I donot wish to ruin your life. You ask me to do so now in all sincerity,but you do not know what you ask. You come from the scene of as bittera disappointment as can befall a man, and you are a little touched bythe contrasting warmth of your reception here, a little moved by myevident interest, and perhaps a little influenced by my good looks,though _they_ are nothing much. Supposing that I consented, supposingI said, 'Arthur, I will put my hand in yours and be your wife,' andthat we were married to-morrow, do you think, when the freshness ofthe thing had worn off, that you would be happy with me? I do not. Youwould soon get horribly tired of me, Arthur, for the little leaventhat leavens the whole lump is wanting. You do not love me; and theredundance of my affection would weary you, and, for my part, I shouldfind it difficult to continually struggle against an impalpable rival,though, indeed, I should be very willing to put up with that."

  "I am sorry you think so."

  "Yes, Arthur, I do think so; but you do not know what it costs me tosay it. I am deliberately shutting the door which bars me from myheaven; I am throwing away the chance I strove so hard to win. Thatwill tell you how much I think it. Do you know, I must be a strangecontradiction. When I knew you were engaged to another woman, Istrained my every nerve to win you from her. While the object wasstill to be gained, I felt no compunction; I was fettered by noscruples. I wanted to steal you from her and marry you myself. But nowthat all this is changed, and that you of your own free will come andoffer to make me your wife, I for the first time feel how wrong itwould be of me to take advantage of you in a moment of pique anddisappointment, and bind you for life to a nature which you do notreally understand, to a violent and a jealous woman. Too late, whenyour life was hampered and your future spoiled, you would discoverthat you hated me. Arthur dear, I will not consent to bind you to meby any tie that cannot be broken."

  "Hush, Mildred! you should not say such things about yourself. If youare as violent and jealous as you say, you are also a very noble-hearted woman, for none other would so sacrifice herself. Perhaps youare right; I do not know. But, whether you are right or wrong, Icannot tell you how you have made me respect you."

  "Dear, those are the most comfortable words I have ever heard; afterwhat has passed between us, I scarcely thought to win your respect."

  "Then you will not marry me, Mildred?"

  "No."

  "That is your fixed determination?"

  "It is."

  "Ah, well!" he sighed, "I suppose that I had better 'top my boom'again?"

  "Do what?"

  "I mean I had better leave Madeira."

  "Why should you leave Madeira?"

  He hesitated a little before replying.

  "Well, because if I do not marry you, and still come here, people willtalk. They did before, you know."

  "Are you afraid of being talked about, then?"

  "I? Oh! dear no. What can it matter to me now?"

  "And supposing I were to tell you that what 'people' say, with orwithout foundation, is as much a matter of indifference to me as theblowing of next summer's breezes, would you still consider itnecessary to leave Madeira?"

  "I don't know."

  He again rose and leant over the verandah rail.

  "It is going to be a wild night," he said, presently.

  "Yes; the wind will spoil all the magnolias. Pick me that bud; it istoo good to be wasted."

  He obeyed, and, just as he stepped back on to the verandah, a fiercerush of wind came up from the sea, and went howling away behind them.

  "I love a storm," she murmured, as he brought the flower to her. "Itmakes me feel so strong," and she stretched out her perfect arms asthough to catch the wind.

  "What am I to do with this magnolia?"

  "Give it to me. I will pin it in my dress--no, do you fasten it forme."

  The chair in which she was lounging was so low that, to do as she badehim, Arthur was forced to kneel beside her. Kneeling thus, the sweet,upturned face was but just beneath his own; the breath from the curvedlips played amongst his hair, and again there crept over him thatfeeling of fascination, of utter helplessness, that he had once beforeresisted. But this time he did not attempt to resist, and no visioncame to save him. Slowly drawn by the beauty of her tender eyes, heyielded to the spell, and soon her lips were pressed upon his own, andthe white arms had closed around his neck, whilst the crushed magnoliabloom shed its perfume round them.

  Fiercer swept the storm, the lightning flashed, and the gale catchingthe crests of the rising waves dashed them in spray to where they sat.

  "Dear," he said presently, "you must not stop here, the spray iswetting you."

  "I wish that it would drown me," she answered, almost fiercely, "Ishall never be so happy again. You think that you love me now; Ishould like to die before you learn to hate me. Come, let us go in!"