He flushed, and said abruptly:
"You must have known I sent you those."
"I did not," I answered rather coldly; "there was no card or note with
them."
"I thought you'd know," he said with increasing embarrassment; and then
he added, almost desperately, "you must know, Constance, that I love
you."
"I know nothing," I replied, drawing myself up haughtily; "I take
nothing of this kind for granted. If you want me to understand, you must
come out openly."
"I have done enough, surely," he said, "enough to lead you to guess the
truth."
"I guess nothing of this sort!" I reiterated; "what right have you to
place me in this position? What right have you, or any other man to
deprive a woman of one of her dearest privileges--that of being wooed?"
"Constance!" he cried, and all his embarrassment was gone, "aren't there
a thousand ways of saying 'I love you?' and haven't I said it in every
way but one?"
"That one was the most important of all," I answered; "I would have
given more to hear those words than to receive every other token."
His face lighted up with a sudden flash, and he started impulsively
toward me.
"Then you _do_ love me, my darling--I have hardly dared to hope."
But I drew back, and answered passionately,
"No, I do not! I love no man who can trifle with a young girl, or any
woman--no man who has the effrontery to expect some one to take for
granted a courtship that has never existed!"
"For Heaven's sake, what _do_ you mean?"
"Go to Miss Sprig and inquire; she has more reason to take your love
for granted than I."
"I'll not go to her, but I shall leave you," he said, with a white face.
"You certainly don't care for me, or you would never deal me such an
unjust thrust as this."
And then I heard him close the front door. I think the neighborhood
heard him.