"I am entirely in your hands. You say you love me now--you love me
because you consider my beauty greater than that of other women; because
I have fascinated you." And sighing she slowly sank into her chair
again. Then she added, "You wish me to be yours, but that I can never
be. I can be your friend, but recollect I can never love you--never!"
Then, putting forth her white hand she took mine, and looking into my
face with a sweet, imploring expression, she went on--
"Think well of what I have said. Reflect upon my words. Surely it is
best to end our friendship when you know how impossible it is for me to
love you in return."
"Then you will not allow me to take the place in your heart that your
lost lover once occupied?" I said, with deep disappointment.
"It is impossible!" she answered, shaking her head gravely. "The love
which comes to each of us once in a lifetime is like no other. If
doomed to misfortune, it can never be replaced. None can fill the
breach in a wounded heart."
"That is only too true," I was compelled to admit. "Yet I cannot
relinquish you, Aline, because I love you."
"You are infatuated--like other men have been," she said, with a faint,
pitying smile. "Holding you in esteem as I do, I regret it."
"Why?"
"This is but the second time we have met, and you know nothing of my
character," she pointed out. "Your love is, therefore, mere
admiration."