BETROTHED LOVERS.
“Miss Wentworth! I--excuse me--did I understand you aright? What reason
can you have for doubting my assertion?” Philip Paxton asked, looking
exceedingly astonished and somewhat crestfallen at Arley’s startling
statement.
“Shall I tell you my reason?” Arley asked, very white about the mouth,
but meeting his flashing eye with a fearless, resolute look.
“Certainly. I think I have a right to an explanation. It is rather hard
for a lady to tell a gentleman that she doubts his word, when he lays
bare the secrets of his heart to her,” Philip replied, with an injured
air.
“Very well, I shall tell you then, but it will not be pleasant for you
to hear,” Arley replied, in a straightforward way. “I do not believe
in your professed affection for me, because I know that ever since you
came to Hazelmere, until quite recently, you have been trying to win
Lady Elaine.
“No, let me go on,” she said, as he seemed about to interrupt her, “for
I have a confession to make with this statement. You have sought her
ladyship upon every occasion, appropriating her to yourself whenever
you could do so, and knowing all the time, as all of us have known,
that Wil Hamilton had given her the deepest devotion of his heart.
I knew that Lady Elaine returned his affection, and, knowing this,
I determined that, if possible, the course of true love should, for
once, run smoothly. And so I--I have tried to thwart you whenever you
attempted to force your attentions upon her. I do not wonder that you
are surprised,” she continued, as she saw him start and change color,
“but it was for this purpose that I sacrificed my maiden modesty,
seeking your society, laughing and jesting with you, and keeping
you by my side by every art which I could call to my aid. Yes, I
played this part for the sole purpose of thwarting your designs, and
to allow the lovers all the enjoyment possible; and when my end was
achieved--when they announced their engagement, I--I couldn’t keep up
the farce any longer. I hated myself for having appeared--and I assure
you it was all pretense--the bold and forward girl who had seemed to
run after you and court your favor upon every occasion; and--and the
reaction has perhaps made me treat you with more coldness and reserve
than I ought to have done. So you perceive, knowing as I do that you
were interested in Lady Elaine, it is not strange that I do not believe
you when you say that you love me.
“But I cannot understand,” she went on, drawing herself up haughtily,
“why you should make such an avowal to me, unless indeed you were
driven to it from pique. I have heard of such things, but I think you
might at least have spared me such a mortification.”
She would have passed him as she ceased speaking, for she had wrought
herself up to the highest pitch of indignation, and was quivering in
every nerve; but he placed himself directly in her path, and would not
let her go.
“No! no! I swear that pique has nothing whatever to do with it!” he
cried, eagerly. “Hear me! You have accused me, and now you must listen
to my defense!”
Like a flash of light the thought came to him, that perhaps while she
was spreading this net for his unsuspecting feet, she had been caught
in its meshes herself--while she had sought to keep him from winning
the love of Lady Elaine, she had learned to love him before she knew it.
During the moment or two that he stood looking down into her expressive
face, and trying to think what to say to defend himself, he had grasped
and analyzed her feelings, and resolved to govern himself accordingly.
“Arley,” he said, in a quick, earnest voice, “at any other time, under
any other circumstances, I should have been mortified and angry at your
frank confession; for a man does not like to be told that he has been
outwitted by a girl, even though the one who has accomplished it may
have twined herself about his heart in a way to make him love her very
tenderly. But, forgive me, if I say that I am led to believe that your
eyes must have been sharpened by something more than common observation
to make you read me so well as you have done. Darling”--and as he
uttered this word, in a low, thrilling tone, he reached down and took
possession of her two trembling hands--“let me ‘confess’ now. That
first evening when I met Lady Elaine I thought I had never seen any one
so lovely. I was bewildered, fascinated, and I said to myself: ‘This
is love at first sight.’ I did seek her--I own it--for she seemed to
possess a strange power which drew me almost irresistibly toward her.
But when I was thrown, or ‘trapped,’ as you say, into your society,
I began to feel that the spice and fire of your more ardent nature
was more congenial to me; your vivacity, your wit and never-failing
spirits, touched a chord in my heart that had never vibrated before,
and I became an only too willing captive in the net which you say you
spread for me. It is you whom I love, and you alone. Arley, I want
you for my wife, and I should have told you this before but for the
coldness and inexplicable neglect with which you have treated me since
you began to hate yourself for making me love you. Dear, this is my
trouble, or at least a portion of it--this was one reason why I was
going away from Hazelmere. I could not remain and endure your aversion.
Will you not bid me stay?--whisper but one word to tell me that I
may hope, and I shall be happy. Do not tell me again that you do not
believe me--try me, test me, and let me prove my sincerity to you.” He
spoke earnestly and passionately, and his words were very sweet to the
ears of the listening girl.
Her heart longed to believe him--to trust him and be happy, though
the still, small voice of her better judgment bade her “wait and be
careful.”
Still his words seemed so plausible and sincere; it looked reasonable,
she thought, that he should be at once attracted by Lady Elaine, who
was so much more beautiful--at least in her opinion--than any one else.
Everybody was attracted to her, but it did not follow that everybody
must fall hopelessly in love with her.
It looked reasonable, too--though, perhaps, not very flattering to
her--that he should not fully realize the state of his feelings toward
her--Arley--until the great heiress had been won by some one else, and
he began to miss her society, which she had taken such pains to make so
fascinating to him; and so reasoning thus--perhaps she was very weak,
but she could not help it--she yearned to accept all that he offered
her.
She stood with her face downcast, hesitating and trembling before him,
not even withdrawing her hands from his clasp, so intent was she trying
to analyze her own feelings and his professions of attachment.
Her hesitancy emboldened him, and enfolding those small hands still
closer in his clasp, he pleaded:
“Arley, something makes me hope, in spite of all the hard things that
you have said to me; tell me that you trust me.”
“Oh, if I might!” she cried, with an intensity that startled him, while
at the same time it told him that she did love him--that his cause was
won.
As she spoke she flashed an eager, searching glance into his face--a
glance that sought to read his very soul.
“My darling!” Philip cried, joyfully, “if you did not have some love
for me you never would have said that. You may--you must trust me, and
I will prove so loyal and true, so fond and devoted, that, by and by,
you will wonder how it was possible for you ever to doubt me.”
Looking down into that beautiful, blushing face, into those glorious
dark eyes, Philip Paxton’s heart was stirred with tenderer feelings
than it had ever experienced before, and he really meant at that moment
all that he said; really believed that he should prove the loyal man
and true that he had promised to be.
He did not know his own weakness--who does, in fact?--he had not a
suspicion of the temptations which in the future were to try the
material of which he was made. It is so easy to make resolutions and
promises; it is so hard, in our own strength, to keep them.
And lovely, pure-hearted, generous Arley Wentworth, won by the
pleadings of her own heart, and his persuasive voice, smiled shyly,
and, still looking into his eyes, which seemed so frank and truthful,
said tremulously:
“I would like to trust you--I will trust you, Philip,” and her fate was
sealed.
He drew her to him with a glad cry, and touched his lips to her burning
brow; and to his honor be it said, he knew then that, fortune or no
fortune, she was dearer to him than any woman in the world.
At the same time he knew, also, that he never should have asked her to
marry him had it not been for her twenty thousand pounds.
“You do love me, Arley?” he whispered.
“Haven’t I confessed it enough yet to satisfy you?” she asked, archly.
“No, I shall want to hear it again and again. Tell me, when did you
first discover that you cared for me?”
“Must I go away down into the valley of humiliation, and own that
I lost my heart during that first ride from Horsham station to
Hazelmere?” Arley retorted, laughing, but with her face covered with
blushes.
“Then I do not see how you needed to have treated me as you have done
during the last fortnight,” Philip replied, regarding her thoughtfully.
“I was obliged to in order to hide my secret,” Arley answered. “When
Wil’s engagement was announced I began to be very much ashamed of the
part I had been playing. I could not bear that you should think me
forward and unmaidenly, while, for the world, I would not have you or
any one else suspect that I had given you my love unsolicited, and so I
concealed my feelings under an assumed coldness.”
“Well, I am bound to confess that you are an honest little body,”
Philip said, laughing.
“Thank you; I never tried to be anything else,” replied truthful Arley.
Philip winced at this unconscious reproof, for he felt that however
much he might be interested in her now, he had not been strictly honest
in asking her to be his wife.
“I do not think I shall leave Hazelmere for a few days longer,” he
said, smiling. “May I announce another engagement this evening?”
“If you wish,” Arley answered, frankly. “I have no desire to keep it
secret.”
And so it was made known at dinner-time, to the surprise of every one,
that Arley Wentworth and Philip Paxton were betrothed lovers.