Page:The Novels and Tales of Henry James, Volume 2 (New York, Charles Scribner's Sons, 1907).djvu/300

THE AMERICAN give me your hand. Madame de Cintré, do that. Do it."

"I knew you were only waiting," she answered, "and I was sure this day would come. I've thought about it a great deal. At first I was half afraid of it. But I'm not afraid of it now." She paused a moment and then added: It's a relief."

She sat on a low chair and Newman on an ottoman near her; he leaned a little and took her hand, which for an instant she let him keep "That means that I've not waited for nothing." She looked at him a moment, and he saw her eyes fill with tears. "With me," he went on, you'll be as safe—as safe"—and even in his ardour he hesitated for a comparison—"as safe," he said with a kind of simple solemnity, "as in your father's arms."

Still she looked at him and her tears flowed; then she buried her face on the cushioned arm of the sofa beside her chair and broke into noiseless sobs. "I 'm weak—I 'm weak," it made him fairly tremble to hear her say.

"All the more reason why you should give yourself up to me," he pleaded. "Why are you troubled? There's nothing here that should trouble you. I offer you nothing but happiness. Is that so hard to believe?"

"To you everything seems so simple," she said as she raised her head. "But things are not so. I like you—oh, I like you. I liked you six months ago, and now I'm sure of it, as you say you 're sure. But it's not easy, simply for that, to decide for what you ask. There are so many things to think about." 270