"Beulah, you know he loves you!" cried Clara, with a strangely quiet
smile.
"Clara Sanders, never say that again as long as you live; for there
is not the shadow of truth in it."
"Ah, I would not believe it till it was forced upon me. The heart
bars itself a long time to painful truths! I have looked at you, and
wondered whether you could be ignorant of what I saw so clearly. I
believe you are honest in what you say. I know that you are; but it
is nevertheless true. I saw it the evening I went to ride. He loves
you, whether you see it or not. And, moreover, the world has begun
to join your names. I have heard, more than once, that he educated
you with the intention of marrying you; and recently it has been
rumored that the marriage would take place very soon. Do not be hurt
with me, Beulah! I think it is right that you should know all this."
"It is utterly false from beginning to end! He never had such a
thought! never! never!" cried Beulah, striking her clenched hand
heavily on the table.
"Why, then, was he so anxious to prevent your teaching?"
"Because he is generous and kind, and fancied it was a life of
hardship, which I could escape by accepting his offer to adopt me.
Your supposition is perfectly ridiculous. He is double my age. A
stern, taciturn man. What could possibly attract him to one whom he
looks upon as a mere child? And, moreover, he is a worshiper of
beauty! Now, it is an indisputable fact that I am anything but a
beauty! Oh, the idea is absurd beyond all degree. Never mention it
to me again. I tell you solemnly, Clara, your jealous fancy has run
away with your common sense."
A sad, incredulous smile flitted over Clara's face; but she made no
reply.
"Clara, rouse yourself from this weak dream. Oh, where is your
pride--your womanly pride--your self-respect? Is your life to be
aimless and dreary because of an unrequited attachment? Shake it
off! Rise above it! Destroy it! Oh, it makes the blood tingle in my
veins to think of your wasting your energies and hopes in love for
one who is so utterly indifferent to you. Much as I love you, Clara,
had I the power to make you his wife to-morrow, I would rather see
you borne to your grave. You know nothing of his fitful, moody
nature; his tyrannical will. You could not be happy with him; you
would see how utterly unsuited you are."