Page:Blackwood's Magazine volume 137.djvu/643

1885.] She paused for a minute, then she raised her eyes again; the heavy lids, heavily fringed, rolled up slowly – a curtain which disclosed a world of beauty below.

"And you? Do you think you will marry him?"

Did she think she would marry him? why, that was the very question which had been Gretchen's torment throughout every weary hour of this weary day; that was the question to which since morning she had vainly sought to find an answer.

"Don't ask me, – oh, I don't know," she answered hurriedly.

"You don't know? then I shall tell you: you dare not marry him!"

"And why not?"

At the defiance her pride had risen already, armed to the teeth in its own defence. Under this new phase of danger she forgot even her fear of that sharp steel point.

To her surprise she was reminded of it in the next instant.

For some minutes past Tryphosa had been intently wondering what could be the meaning of the fixed gaze which Gretchen had fastened upon the little dagger on the table. She had reached a satisfactory conclusion now.

"I know what you are afraid of, mademoiselle," she said; "you are afraid of that knife and of my despair. You think I am going to stab you."

This again was very plain – fearfully plain; and Gretchen recoiled, as if the words had been a blow.

The situation was so painfully intense, that nothing but an attempt at lightness could relieve the strain of tension. Gretchen made that attempt.

"I don't think you would succeed," she laughed a little harshly. "It would take you too long to do it."

"Too long? Do you think so? No, it is not that. If I want to do a thing, I do it. It may take long, but I do it. It does not matter whether a thing is done slowly or quickly – only that it is done. It is not that," went on the Princess, heavily reasoning out the point in question – heavily, but unfailingly; "let us not be foolish. It is only that it would be no good. He would hate me for having stabbed the woman he loves; for he loves you – now. If you are afraid of that knife, throw it away."

Gretchen remained scornfully silent; she did not even look towards the knife.

The original question appeared to have become merged into this side-question. Gretchen, therefore, was not a little puzzled when the Princess now repeated –

"Why not? I shall tell you why not."

She had forgotten her exact words, but Tryphosa never forgot anything she had once thoroughly understood.

"You dare not marry István Tolnay, because I have a better right to him. You have taken him away from me."

"I have not taken him away; he has taken himself away."

"Will you listen to what I say? I say, I have a better right to him. He saw me before he saw you, and he loved me before he loved you. And that is not all; he promised to marry me long before he knew that you existed."

An exclamation of disbelief broke from Gretchen's lips. She had known of the last year's flirtation between Tryphosa and Tolnay; she had even this year watched its last lingering remnants; but she had never guessed at anything so grave as this, at promises made and not held. The thing was too monstrous to be grasped. Was this