CHAPTER XXXIII

COMING TO THE POINT

GILES had resolved to follow Colin's advice, and difficulties strengthened that determination.

All one day he had to be absent. Next morning he found himself eluded. He was aware of a change in Phyllys. She seemed constrained: no longer flushing with joy to see him. His hopes sank low; but he would not wait.

After luncheon she retreated to Mrs. Keith's boudoir, and busied herself with fancy work. Presently she glanced up—to find Mrs. Keith gone, and Giles in her place.

It was impossible to rush away, and he wasted no time. Before she could be sure whither his speech tended, he had offered her himself and all that he had. She whispered. "Please don't!" but the petition was vain. He had begun, and would finish. There was no outpouring. He never used twenty words, where ten would do. Yet, while saying little, he conveyed abundant meaning—pleading in short vehement phrases.

"Give me hope, Phyllys!"—for her face was almost hidden. "One word!"

That averted face struck a chill.

"Have I spoken too soon? Phyllys, tell me! This cannot be a surprise."

Still she would not or could not speak. The silence was more than he knew how to endure.

"It is life or death," he said hoarsely. "Life without you 'is' death. I did not know, till I saw you, what it was to live. Give me hope—if not now, for the future."

She had drawn her hand away, and he took it again! "Phyllys, my darling! My darling!—If you knew what you are to me! One word."

But when she lifted her head, she was joyless and pale, the cheeks drenched with tears.

"I 'can't!'" she said with a sob.

"Cannot—love me!"

"I can't say anything."

"You want time. Dearest, I will wait as long as you like. Only give me hope."

"No." She mastered herself. "It can't be. Not now."

"But—when you have had time. When you know me better. I can wait; if I may hope."

"I don't know. O I don't know. Don't ask me, please."

He sat beside her, dazed and pained.

"Please—try to forget."

"Forget you! Never!"

[Illustration: THAT AVERTED FACE STRUCK A CHILL.]

He kept her hand and she did not draw it away.

"My darling, what can this mean? Not that you do not care for me! That you don't feel you might some day—"

"I can't tell. Perhaps—but not for years."

"But why wait? Every day is a year till you are mine. Why wait—if you think you might learn to love me! Would it take long?"

She burst into such heartbroken tears that he could not misunderstand, and joy leaped into his face. "My Phyllys! My own! You do love!"

She put him off with both hands. "No, no, no! I can say nothing! It is impossible. You must not think of me. I shall go home, and you must forget."

"Never! I am bound to you for life—till death—beyond death! There is a love which death cannot touch. My love for you is that sort. It will live while I live—in this world or in a dozen other worlds."

A faint wonder passed through her mind. If her surmise were true, if indeed his was a life of fraud, could he cheerfully speak of death? But he was a man; of course he could. He would carry out his deceit consistently.

Her heart rebelled anew. It could not be! He was "not" that sort! She would not, did not, believe it. Through all doubts and suspicions, how she loved! How she longed to give herself over to him! Even—with this risk, to take him. But she could not marry one whom she might not respect. There was nothing for it but to wait.

"You must not think of me," she said, and she stood up. "I can't say more. Some day, perhaps, if you should want it still, I might be able then; not now. And you are free."

"Free! But this is awful. Free till when?"

She could only sob. He took a sterner tone.

"You have not treated me fairly. You have given me reason to hope."

"I know," she whispered. "And if I had seen—"

"Then you thought you could. You did not see earlier—this that stands in the way. It is something new."

"Yes."

"Since when?"

She made no reply.

"I cannot conceive what obstacle exists, unless—Phyllys, do you 'not' care for me?"

He said the words masterfully, and she was again silent. To give a decisive "Yes" or a decisive "No" seemed to be equally out of the question. He gathered a grain of hope.

"One thing at least you will allow. I may speak again. How soon?"

"Oh, not for a long while, please!"

He caught her hand, and covered it with kisses.

She burst into fresh tears, and hurried away.