Bob Hampton of Placer - Page 134/205

"Oh, please do not--do not say what you are tempted to," her voice

almost pleading. "I cannot listen; truly I cannot; I must not. It

would make us both very unhappy, and you would be sure to regret such

hasty words."

"Regret!" and he yet clung to the hand which she scarcely endeavored to

release, bending forward, hoping to read in her hidden eyes the secret

her lips guarded. "Am I, then, not old enough to know my own mind?"

"Yes--yes; I hope so, yes; but it is not for me; it can never be for

me--I am no more than a child, a homeless waif, a nobody. You forget

that I do not even know who I am, or the name I ought rightfully to

bear. I will not have it so."

"Naida, sweetheart!" and he burst impetuously through all bonds of

restraint, her flushed cheeks the inspiration to his daring. "I will

speak, for I care nothing for all this. It is you I love--love

forever. Do you understand me, darling? I love you! I love you!"

For an instant,--one glad, weak, helpless, forgetful instant,--she did

not see him, did not even know herself; the very world was lost. Then

she awoke as if from a dream, his strong arms clasped about her, his

lips upon hers.

"You must not," she sobbed. "I tell you no! I will not consent; I

will not be false to myself. You have no right; I gave you no right."

He permitted her to draw away, and they stood facing each other, he

eager, mystified, thrilling with passion almost beyond mastery, she

trembling and unstrung, her cheeks crimson, her eyes filled with mute

appeal.

"I read it in your face," he insisted. "It told of love."

"Then my face must have lied," she answered, her soft voice tremulous,

"or else you read the message wrongly. It is from my lips you must

take the answer."

"And they kissed me."

"If so, I knew it not. It was by no volition of mine. Lieutenant

Brant, I have trusted you so completely; that was not right."

"My heart exonerates me."

"I cannot accept that guidance."

"Then you do not love me."

She paused, afraid of the impulse that swept her on. "Perhaps," the

low voice scarcely audible, "I may love you too well."

"You mean there is something--some person, perhaps--standing between?"