"No," she said, with a sigh. "No; but you went back to her. Oh, I do not
blame you! She is very beautiful; she was a fitting wife----"
He uttered an exclamation--it was very like an oath--and caught her hand
again.
"No, no," he said, almost fiercely. "You are wrong--wrong!"
She sighed again.
"I saw you--and her," she said, as if that were conclusive.
"I know it," he said. "You saw her come toward me and greet me as
if--Heaven! I can scarcely bear to speak of it, to recall it!--as if she
were betrothed to me. You saw her kiss me. But, Nell--ah! my dearest,
listen to me, believe me!"--for she turned away from him in the
bitterness of her agony, the remembrance of the agony she had suffered
that night on the terrace. "You must believe me! The kiss was hers, not
mine. I would rather have died than my lips should have touched her that
night."
Nell's heart began to throb, and something--a vague hope--the touch of a
joy too great and deep for words--began to steal over her.
"I am a fool, and weak, but, as Heaven is my witness, I had no thought
for her that night. All my heart, my love, were yours! The very sight of
her, her presence, was painful to me! Even as she came toward me, I was
thinking of you, was in search of you. And her kiss! If the lips had
been those of one of the statues on the terrace, it could not have moved
me less. Nell, be merciful to me! What could I do? I am a man, she is a
woman. Could I thrust her from me? I longed to do so; I would have told
her I loved her no longer, that my love was given to another, to you,
Nell; but there was no time. She left me before I could scarcely utter a
word. And then I went in search of you--and the rest you know. Think,
Nell! When you sent me away, did I go to her? No; I left England with my
disappointment and my misery. Ah, Nell, if you had only told me that you
had beheld the scene on the balcony! Go back to her--and leave you!"
He laughed with mingled bitterness and desperation. The strain was
growing too tense for mere words.
At such moments as this, the man, if there is aught of manliness in him,
has need of more than words.
"Think, dearest!" he said hoarsely. "Compare yourself with poor Luce!
You say she is 'beautiful.' Do you never look in the glass? Dearest, you
are, in all men's sight, ten times more lovely! The pure and flawless
gem against the falsely glittering paste! Oh, Nell, if my heart was not
so heavy, I could laugh, laugh! And you thought I had left you for her,
gone back to her! And so you sent me away to exile and misery!"