Page:Elizabeth's Pretenders.djvu/278

Rh the man and anything like love there was, in Elizabeth's case, as Hatty well knew, a long road to be traversed. Of her English friend's past she knew as little now as she did four months ago. Elizabeth was not given to "confidences," and the circumstances of her case were such as to render her additionally reluctant to speak of the life from which she had severed herself by a stroke of that sharp sword we call determination.

All the same, it was impossible that so keen and interested an observer of those she loved as Miss Baring should fail to note the bitterness with which her friend spoke of men in general, of family ties, of reliance on any human being but one's self. It was far better to remain single, to trust to no one. Hatty had chosen the wiser part. But here the little American always stopped her peremptorily.

"Don't say that; it is quite a mistake. I have not chosen my part; Nature gave it me. At your age I could have loved. I did not think then that to be an old maid was the better part. But no man ever made love to me, and common sense came to my aid. I looked in the glass; I understood it, and I reconciled myself to my lot. Happily, Alaric wanted me. I was not useless, nor lonely, when our mother died. I had never known what it was to live for myself; and when I came to him I had an object, an interest, still in life. Ah, dear, whether you live by yourself or not, don't live for yourself. Don't think that painting and ambition will fill up all your life; it won't. There is nothing worth living for but to share our joys and troubles with another."

Then Elizabeth would reply that she had no intention