Page:Harper's New Monthly Magazine - v109.djvu/819

Rh complimented her on her eyebrows, and above them her hair grew in a charming line on her forehead. The little points are all pretty, he thought, and it is the details that count in the long run. How much one could grow to dislike blurry eyebrows and ugly ears, even if a woman had rosy cheeks and golden hair!

"Why? Because I should bully you into it. I'm an obstinate kind of creature, and get things by hanging on. Women give in if you worry them long enough. But tell me more about Tom," he went on. "Did he dance and shoot his way into your heart? I wish I'd been there to see! You take a very bad tintype, by the way. Tom sent me that." He got up, and taking a picture from the mantelpiece, tossed it into her lap, and leaning over the back of her chair, looked down on it. "Have you a sentiment about it?" he added, smiling. "It does look like Tom."

She held it and gravely studied it. She colored, and, still looking at the picture, felt her way suddenly open. "Yes, it does look like him," she said, and putting it down, leant forward and looked into the fire. "Do you want to know why I accepted Tom?" she added, slowly. She was fully launched on a career of deception now, and felt a desperate exultation.

Amory stared at her and nodded.

She kept her eyes on the fire. "I wanted—a home."

Amory sat motionless, then spoke.

"Why—why, weren't you happy with your aunt and uncle?"

She shook her head. "No; and Tom was good and kind and very—"

Amory got up and shook himself.

"Oh, but that's an awful mistake," he said.

"I know," said the girl, and turning, looked at him a moment. "Well, I've come to tell you that I have—"

She hesitated.

Amory slid down into the chair beside her. "Changed your mind?"

"Yes."

"That note of your aunt's?"

"Yes."

He sat back and folded his arms.

"I see," he said, and there followed a long silence.

The girl began buttoning and unbuttoning her glove. She must go; she was frightened, elated, amused. She did not want to go, but go she must. Would he ever forgive her?

"Don't — don't hate me!" she said. Amory awoke from his stunned medita- tion. " My dear young lady, of course not," he began ; " only, Tom will be ter- ribly broken up. It's the only thing to do now, I suppose, but why did you do the other ?" She looked at him. As well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb, she thought. " I was unhappy and foolish." She hesi- tated. " But you needn't be troubled about Tom. He — " Again she hesitated. "Not troubled about old Tom!" ex- postulated Amory. " Wait." She put up her hand. " He made a mistake, too; he doesn't care so very much, and he has already flirted — " Amory laid his hand on her chair. " Tom!" " Yes," she repeated ; " he really is rather a flirt, and — " " Tom!" She nodded. "Yes; really, it did hurt me a little, only — " " Tom !"

She faced him. "Yes, Tom. What do you think Tom is—blind and deaf and dumb? Any man worth his salt can flirt."

Amory stared at her. "Oh, he can, can he?"

She nodded. "He was very good and kind, but I saw that he was changing; and then he met a little fair-haired, blue-eyed—"

Amory interposed. "I told you."

She gave him a curious smile. "Yes, a silly little blond thing,—just that."

But his satisfaction in his perspicacity was short-lived; he walked up and down the room in his perplexity. "I can't get over it," he murmured. "I thought it a mad love-match, all done in a few weeks; and to have it turn out like this! You—"

"Mercenary," she interjected, with a sad little smile.

He looked at her. "Yes; and Tom—"

"Fickle," she ended again.

"Yes, and Tom fickle. Why, it shakes the foundations!"

The girl felt a sudden wave of shame and weariness. She must go. She hadn't been fair, but it had been so sudden, so difficult. She looked at him, and getting