But
here or anywhere, some time, I intend to marry Mr. Cowles. This I have
promised of my own free will. He has been both man and gentleman,
father. I love him."
I heard the groan which came from his throat. She sprang back. "What is
it?" she said. The old fire of her disposition again broke out.
"What!" she cried. "You object? Listen, I will sign my name now--I will
finish it--give me--give me--" She sought about on the ground for
something which would leave a mark. "I say I have not been his, but will
be, father--as I like, when I like--now, this very night if I
choose--forever! He has done everything for me--I trust him--I know he
is a man of honor, that he--" Her voice broke as she looked at my face.
"But what--what _is_ it?" she demanded, brokenly, in her own eyes
something of the horror which sat in mine. I say I see her picture now,
tall, straight, sweet, her hands on her lifting bosom, eagerness and
anxiety fighting on her face.
"Ellen, child, Mr. Cowles has something to tell you."
Then some one, in a voice which sounded like mine, but was not mine,
told her--told her the truth, which sounded so like a lie. Some one,
myself, yet not myself, went on, cruelly, blackening all the sweet blue
sky for her.
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