When he could find nothing more to say, he flung himself
upon the bench,--but on the other end of it,--and crossed his arms,
and dropped his head upon them. So that there were two on the bench,
one at either end, and both with their heads dropped--a pretty
picture in the moonlight of a lovers' quarrel. But this was worse
than a lovers' quarrel. It was the end of everything, for the girl
was engaged to another man.
She rose. If he had been looking up, he would have seen that there
were tears in her eyes and on her cheek.
"Mr. Fernie," she stammered, timidly, "I suppose there is nothing
more to say. I am no doubt all that you have called me. I am
heartless; I have led you on. Well, but I did not know--how could
I tell that you were taking things so seriously? How can you be so
angry just because I can't marry you? One girl is no better than
another. There are plenty of girls in the world. I thought you
liked me, and I--but what is the use of talking? I am heartless
and cold; I am treacherous and vain and cruel, and--and--won't you
shake hands with me once more, Claude, before we part?"
"No! I will never shake hands with you again; never--never! By
heavens! nothing that could happen now would ever make me shake
hands with you again.
Pages:
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45