'I do not know why you should do that.'
'Hetta, you must know that I love you.'
'Do you?' she said. Of course she knew it. And of course she thought that he was equally sure of her love. Had he chosen to read signs that ought to have been plain enough to him, could he have doubted her love after the few words that had been spoken on that night when Lady Carbury had come in with Roger and interrupted them? She could not remember exactly what had been said; but she did remember that he had spoken of leaving England for ever in a certain event, and that she had not rebuked him;--and she remembered also how she had confessed her own love to her mother. He, of course, had known nothing of that confession; but he must have known that he had her heart!
So at least she thought. She had been working some morsel of lace, as ladies do when ladies wish to be not quite doing nothing. She had endeavoured to ply her needle, very idly, while he was speaking to her, but now she allowed her hands to fall into her lap. She would have continued to work at the lace had she been able, but there are times when the eyes will not see clearly, and when the hands will hardly act mechanically.
'Yes,--I do. Hetta, say a word to me. Can it be so? Look at me for one moment so as to let me know.' Her eyes had turned downwards after her work. 'If Roger is dearer to you than I am, I will go at once.'
'Roger is very dear to me.'
'Do you love him as I would have you love me?'
She paused for a time, knowing that his eyes were fixed upon her, and then she answered the question in a low voice, but very clearly. 'No,' she said,--'not like that.'
'Can you love me like that?' He put out both his arms as though to take her to his breast should the answer be such as he longed to hear. She raised her hand towards him, as if to keep him back, and left it with him when he seized it. 'Is it mine?' he said.
'If you want it.'
Then he was at her feet in a moment, kissing her hand, and her dress, looking up into her face with his eyes full of tears, ecstatic with joy as though he had really never ventured to hope for such success. 'Want it!' he said. 'Hetta, I have never wanted anything but that with real desire. Oh, Hetta, my own. Since I first saw you this has been my only dream of happiness. And now it is my own.'