Page:Blackwood's Magazine volume 137.djvu/645

1885.] She was horrified at Tryphosa's confession; she was touched by her boundless love.

"What is it you want of me?" she asked in a whisper.

The Princess reflected deeply. "Justice," she said at last.

"I do not understand you."

"He has sworn that he will marry me. He has not sworn it once, but twenty times. Do you not see that I am ruined if he does not hold to what he has sworn?"

"If he has sworn it, he will keep it, of course. What is the use of addressing me?"

The Princess only shook her head. "What I ask of you is, that you should promise not to marry him."

"I will not bind myself by any promise," said Gretchen, between pride and perplexity. Let me go now, Princess – I have listened long enough."

"You must listen to me longer," said the Princess. "You cannot do me this injustice: you love justice, and you love truth."

"But is this truth?" thought Gretchen, in an agony of doubt.

Had Tryphosa modified the crudeness of her story, Gretchen night have been convinced; but when thus presented to her in all the hideousness of broken promises and heartless desertion, the inexperienced girl, shocked and disgusted, shrank back, taking refuge in disbelief. However much she might have sighed for liberty a few hours since, her pride revolted against having the gift forced on her by another woman. Doubts were obscuring her mind. To reject Tryphosa's demand, or to throw over István Tolnay after having played thus fast and loose with him, – of the two which would be the greater sin?

Every trifle grew fearfully weighty at this moment. Her mother's words, Kurt's debts, rose up and confronted her.

"It would be no good my promising," she said at last; "that would not give you back his love."

"It would be some good;" and the Princess frowned as if in heavy thought. "He loves you now, but he would come back to me in time. I know it; he cannot be true to any woman for long."

"You say that, and yet you love him?"

"I do not think he is a good man, – I think he is bad; and yet I love him – madly."

There was a fearful suggestion of suppressed strength in that one word.

"I would sacrifice everything in the world for the sake of my child, but I would sacrifice my child for the sake of him. Do you believe now that I love him?"

There was no answer possible – none that would not have sounded weak after those slow, burning words. The revelation of passion beneath this sluggish surface was overwhelming; it stunned Gretchen for a moment.

"Will you give me the promise now?"

"Oh, I don't know – I don't know!" cried Gretchen, flinging her hands over her face. "Let me think."

"As long as you like."

How strange the deliberate words sounded after the last that had been said! The request appeared perfectly natural to Tryphosa: she was accustomed to think so much and so slowly herself, that it was not surprising to hear Gretchen say, "Let me think."

She took up her fan again. Her features were heavily passive, but the fingers which closed over the handle clutched it convulsively.

She would wait like that for an hour with perfect patience.