Page:Doctor Thorne.djvu/212

208 he put out his hand to take hold of hers. She then lifted up her own, and slapped him lightly on the knuckles.

'And what can you have to say to Miss Dunstable that can make it necessary that you should pinch her hand? I tell you fairly, Mr. Gresham, if you make a fool of yourself, I shall come to a conclusion that you are all fools, and that it is hopeless to look out for any one worth caring for.'

Such advice as this, so kindly given, so wisely meant, so clearly intelligible, he should have taken and understood, young as he was. But even yet he did not do so.

'A fool of myself! Yes; I suppose I must be a fool if I have so much regard for Miss Dunstable as to make it painful to me to know that I am to see her no more: a fool: yes, of course I am a fool—a man is always a fool when he loves.'

Miss Dunstable could not pretend to doubt his meaning any longer; and was determined to stop him, let it cost what it would. She now put out her hand, not over white, and, as Frank soon perceived, gifted with a very fair allowance of strength.

'Now, Mr. Gresham,' said she, 'before you go any further you shall listen to me. Will you listen to me for a moment without interrupting me?'

Frank was of course obliged to promise that he would do so.

'You are going—or rather you were going, for I shall stop you—to make to me a profession of love.'

'A profession!' said Frank, making a slight unsuccessful effort to get his hand free.

'Yes; a profession—a false profession, Mr. Gresham,—a false profession—a false profession. Look into your heart—into your heart of hearts. I know you at any rate have a heart; look into it closely. Mr. Gresham, you know you do not love me; not as a man should love the woman whom he swears to love.'

Frank was taken aback. So appealed to he found that he could not any longer say that he did love her. He could only look into her face with all his eyes, and sit there listening to her.

'How is it possible that you should love me? I am Heaven knows how many years your senior. I am neither young nor beautiful, nor have I been brought up as she should be whom you in time will really love and make your wife. I have nothing that should make you love me; but—but, I am rich.'

'It is not that,' said Frank, stoutly, feeling himself imperatively called upon to utter something in his own defence.

'Ah, Mr. Gresham, I fear it is that. For what other reason