"
"I suppose," I wept, "you would have had me marry him whether I
wanted to or not, just to keep from hurting him."
"No," he answered quickly. "I did not say that--I did not say that
I would have had you marry him. No, lass, I did not say that."
"Then why are you scolding me?" I asked in a choked whisper.
"Scolding you? I was not. It was only that--that I love the
lad--and I wish you both so well--I thought perhaps there was some
mistake, and--it would not matter about me, if I could see you both
happy."
"There is a mistake," I said clearly. "It is a great mistake,
Dugald Shaw, that you should come to me and court me--for some one
else."
There was silence for a while, the kind of silence when you hear
your heartbeats.
When he spoke his voice was unsteady.
"But the boy has everything to offer you--his ancient name, his
splendid unstained youth, a heart that is all loyalty. He is
strong and brave and beautiful. Virginia, why couldn't you love
him?"
"I could not love him," I replied, very low, "because my love was
not mine any more to give. It belongs to--some one else. Is his
name ancient? I don't know. It is his, and he ennobles it.
Cuthbert has youth, but youth is only promise. In the man I love I
find fulfilment. And he is loyal and brave and honest--I am afraid
he isn't beautiful, but I love him the better for his scars--"
After that I sat quite still, and I knew it depended on the next
half minute whether I went all the days of my life crowned and
glorious with happiness, or buried my shame and heartbreak under
the waters of the cove.
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