Only
one thing could I see or understand: I desired her whom I loved and was
now fast losing forever.
Chance and circumstance had enmeshed me; in vain I struggled in the net
of fate, bruised, stunned, confused with grief and this new fire of
passion which had flashed up around me until I had inhaled the flames
and must forever bear their scars within as long as my seared heart
could pulse.
As I stood there under the dim trees, dumb, miserable, straining my ears
for the messenger's return, came my cousin Dorothy in the pale, flowered
gown she wore at supper, and ere she perceived me I saw her searching
for me, treading the new grass without a sound, one hand pressed to her
parted lips.
When she saw me she stood still, and her hands fell loosely to her side.
"Cousin," she said, in a faint voice.
And, as I did not answer, she stepped nearer till I could see her blue
eyes searching mine.
"What have you done!" I cried, harshly.
"I do not know," she said.
"I know," I retorted, fiercely. "Time was all we had--a few poor
hours--a day or two together. And with time there was chance, and with
chance, hope. You have killed all three!"
"No; ... there was no chance; there is no longer any time; there never
was any hope."
"There was hope!" I said, bitterly.
"No, there was none," she murmured.
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