“i’m going for a walk with mr. winthrop, auntie,” said holly. she fastened a broad-brimmed hat on her head and looked down at miss india with soft, shining eyes. dinner was over and miss india, the major and julian were sitting in a shady spot on the porch. winthrop awaited holly at the steps.
“well, my dear,” answered miss india. “but keep mr. winthrop away from those dark, damp places, holly. it’s so easy to get the feet wet at this time of year.”
“you see, uncle major,” laughed holly, “she doesn’t care whether i catch cold or not; it’s just mr. winthrop!”
“holly!” expostulated her aunt.
“she knows, my dear,” said the major, gallantly, “that those little feet of yours will skim the wet places like swallows!”
“thank you, sir!” she made a face at[289] the major. “you will be here when we get back, won’t you, julian?”
“i don’t know,” answered julian, dismally.
“we won’t be long.” she nodded to the trio and joined winthrop, and side by side they went down the steps, wound through the garden and disappeared into the oleander path. julian watched them with a pain at his heart until they were out of sight, and for several minutes afterwards he sat silent, thinking bitter thoughts. then a remark of the major’s aroused him and he leaped impetuously into the conversation.
“trouble!” he exclaimed. “why, we can clear the spaniards out of cuba in two weeks. look at our ships! and look at our army! there isn’t a better one in the world! trouble! why, it’ll be too easy; you’ll see; it’ll be all over before we know it!”
“i dread another war, major,” said miss india, with a little shudder. “the last one was so terrible.”
[290]
“it was, ma’am, it was. it was brother kill brother. but this one will be different, miss indy, for north and south will stand together and fight together, and, by godfrey, there’ll be no stopping until spanish dominion in cuba is a thing of the past!”
“that’s right,” cried julian. “this is the whole country together this time; it’s the united states of america, by jupiter!”
“let us thank god for that,” said miss india, devoutly.
winthrop and holly were rather silent until they had left the red clay road behind and turned into the woods. there, in a little clearing, winthrop led the way to the trunk of a fallen pine and they seated themselves upon it. the afternoon sunlight made its way between the branches in amber streams. above them festoons of gray-green moss decked the trees. the woods were very silent and not even a bird-call broke the silence. holly took her hat off and laid it beside her on the gray bark.[291] then she turned gravely to winthrop and met his eyes.
“what is it?” she whispered.
“i’ve brought you here, holly, to ask you to marry me,” he answered. holly’s hand flew to her heart, and her eyes grew big and dark.
“i don’t understand,” she faltered.
“no, and before i do ask you, dear, i’ve got something to tell you. will you listen?”
“oh, yes,” answered holly, simply.
“i was married when i was twenty-four years old,” began winthrop, after a moment. “i had just finished a course in the law school. the girl i married was four years younger than i. she was very beautiful and a great belle in the little city in which she lived. we went to new york and i started in business with a friend of mine. we were stock brokers. a year later my wife bore me a son; we called him robert. for five years we were very happy; those years were the happiest i have ever known. then the boy died.”[292] he was silent a moment. “i loved him a great deal, and i took it hard. i made a mistake then. to forget my trouble i immersed myself too deeply, perhaps, in business. well, two years later i made the discovery that i had failed to keep my wife’s love. if our boy had lived it would have been different but his death left her lonely and—i was thoughtless, selfish in my own sorrow, until it was too late. i found that my wife had grown to love another man. i don’t blame her; i never have. and she was always honest with me. she told me the truth. she sued me for divorce and i didn’t contest. that was six years ago. she has been married for five years and i think, i pray, that she is very happy.”
he paused, and holly darted a glance at his face. he was looking straight ahead down the woodland path, and for an instant she felt very lonely and apart. then—
“you see, dear,” he continued, “i have failed to keep one woman’s love. could[293] i do better another time? i think so, but—who knows? it would be a risk for you, wouldn’t it?”
he turned and smiled gently at her, and she smiled tremulously back.
“there,” he said. “now you know what i am. i am thirty-eight years old, twenty years older than you, and a divorced man into the bargain. even if you were willing to excuse those things, holly, i fear your aunt could not.”
“if i were willing,” answered holly, evenly, “nothing else would matter. but—you will tell me one thing? do you—are you quite, quite sure that you do not still love her—a little?”
“quite, holly. the heart i offer, dear, is absolutely free.”
“i think god did mean me to love you, then, after all,” said holly, thoughtfully.
winthrop arose and stood before her, and held out his hand. she placed hers in it and with her eyes on his allowed him to raise her gently toward him.
“then, holly,” he said, “i ask you to[294] be my wife, for i love you more than i can ever tell you. will you, holly, will you?”
“yes,” sighed holly.
very gently he strove to draw her to him but, with her hands against his breast, she held herself at the length of his arms.
“wait,” she said. “don’t kiss me until you are sure that you mean what you’ve said, robert—quite, quite sure. because”—her eyes darkened, and her voice held a fierceness that thrilled him—“because, dear, after you have kissed me it will be too late to repent. i’ll never let you go then, never while i live! i’ll fight for you until—until——!”
her voice broke, and the lashes fell tremblingly over her eyes. winthrop, awed and stirred, raised the bowed head until her eyes, grown soft and timid, glanced up at him once more.
“dear,” he said, very low and very humbly, “such as i am i am yours as long as god will let me live for you.”
he bent his head until his lips were on hers.
[295]
the next instant she had buried her face against his shoulder, and he felt her body shaking in his arms.
“holly!” he cried. “holly! you’re crying! what is it, dear? what have i done, sweetheart?”
for an instant she ceased to quiver, and from against his coat came a smothered voice.
“what’s the good of be-being happy,” sobbed holly, “if you can’t cr-cr-cry?”
a breath of wind from the south swept through the wood, stirring the tender leaves to rustling murmurs. and the sound was like that of a little stream which, obstructed in its course, finds a new channel and leaps suddenly on its way again, laughing joyously.
