And yet matrimony, as concerned himself, was very far from Thornton
Hastings' thoughts that afternoon, when, because he saw that it
pleased Anna to have him do so, he talked to her of Arthur, hoping in
his unselfish heart that what he said in his praise might influence
her to reconsider her decision and give him a different answer. This
was the second day of Thornton Hastings' acquaintance with Anna
Ruthven, but as the days went on, bringing the usual routine of life
at Newport, the drives, the rides, the pleasant piazza talks, and the
quiet moonlight rambles, when Anna was always his companion, Thornton
Hastings came to feel an unwillingness to surrender, even to Arthur
Leighton, the beautiful girl who pleased him better than any one he
had known.
Mrs. Meredith's plans were working well, and so, though the autumn
days had come, and one after another the devotees of fashion were
dropping off, she lingered on, and Thornton Hastings still rode and
walked with Anna Ruthven, until there came a night when they wandered
farther than usual from the hotel, and sat down together on a height
of land which overlooked the placid waters, where the moonlight lay
softly sleeping. It was a most lovely night, and for a while they
listened in silence to the music of the sea, then talked of the
breaking up which came in a few days when the hotel was to be closed,
and wondered if next year they would come again to the old haunts and
find them unchanged.
There was witchery in the hour, and Thornton felt its spell, speaking
out at last, and asking Anna if she would be his wife. He would shield
her so tenderly, he said, protecting her from every care, and making
her as happy as love and money could make her. Then he told her of his
home in the far-off city, which needed only her presence to make it a
paradise, and then he waited for her answer, watching anxiously the
limp white hands, which, when he first began to talk, had fallen so
helplessly upon her lap, and then had crept up to her face, which was
turned away from him, so that he could not see its expression, or
guess at the struggle going on in Anna's mind. She was not wholly
surprised, for she could not mistake the nature of the interest which,
for the last two weeks, Thornton Hastings had manifested in her. But,
now that the moment had come, it seemed to her that she never had
expected it, and she sat silent for a time, dreading so much to speak
the words which she knew would inflict pain on one whom she respected
so highly but whom she could not marry.
"Don't you like me, Anna?" Thornton asked at last, his voice very low
and tender, as he bent over her and tried to take her hand.