"And you love this man?" I said, in a rather hard voice.
But she merely shrugged her shoulders, and with a forced laugh
answered--
"Oh, let's talk of something else. We are out to enjoy ourselves
to-day, not to discuss each other's love affairs."
We had approached the Diana fountain, and she stood pensively beside it
for a moment watching the shoal of lazy carp, some of which have lived
in that pond for over a century.
"I do not wish to discuss my own affairs of the heart, Muriel," I burst
forth passionately, as I stood beside her. "Yet, as one who holds you
in esteem, who has ever striven for your welfare, I feel somehow that I
ought to be still your confidant."
"You only wish to wring my secret from me because it amuses you," she
protested, her eyes flashing resentfully. "You know that's the truth.
When you have nothing better to do you bring me out, just because I'm
company. If you had held me in esteem, as you declare you do, you would
have at least wished me farewell before you went abroad for the winter."
This neglect had annoyed her, and in sudden pique she was reproaching me
in a manner quite unusual to her. I had never before seen her assume so
resentful an air.
"No," I responded, pained that she should thus charge me with amusing
myself at leisure with her society, although when I reflected I was
compelled to admit within myself that her words were the absolute truth.
For several years I had merely treated her as a friend to be sought
when I had no other person to dine with or accompany me out. Yes, of
late, I had neglected Muriel sadly.
"I don't think you are quite fair," I said. "That I hold you in esteem
you must have seen long, long ago, and the reason why I did not wish you
farewell was because--well, because I was just then very much upset."
"You had met a woman whom you believed you loved," she said harshly.
"It is useless to try and conceal the truth from me."
"I have not attempted to conceal anything," I responded, nevertheless
starting at her mention of that woman who had been enveloped in such
mystery, and who, after a few days' madness, had now so completely gone
out of my life. How could she have known?
In answer she looked me straight in the face with her dark, fathomless
eyes.
"You have told me nothing of your love," she exclaimed in a hoarse tone.
"If you cannot trust me with your confidences as once you used to do,
then we can no longer remain the fast friends we have been. We must
drift apart. You have already shown that you fear to tell me of your
fascination--a fascination that was so near to becoming fatal. You know
nothing of Aline Cloud--of who or what she is--yet you love her
blindly!" Her well-arched brows knit themselves, her face became at
that instant pale and hard set, and she held her breath, as if a sudden
determination had swept upon her.
She knew my secret, and I stood confused, unable to reply to those
quick, impetuous words which had involuntarily escaped her.
Did she love me? I wondered. Had jealousy alone prompted that speech?
Or was she really aware of the truth concerning the blue-eyed woman whom
I had adored for those few fleeting days, and whom I was now seeking to
hunt down as a criminal?