to uncle Robert till I have
told William; it wouldn't be honorable on my part."
"But you are forgetting, little girl, that there may be scruples on my
side, too. If my strength should come back as fast in the next two or
three days, I shall be able to leave Cedar House before the end of the
week. I cannot go away in silence; there must be no sort of secrecy. You
perceive there is a question of honor there, too. I must speak to the
judge--"
"It isn't any question of secrecy. There is nothing to keep secret," she
protested and coaxed. "I am thinking only of William's feelings, and
trying to spare his pride. I know him best and I am fond of him. Don't
forget that. There has not been the least change in my affection for
him," holding her beautiful head very straight. "Don't think for a
moment that my regard for William has been lessened," suddenly dimpling,
softening, and beaming, "by my falling in love with you. That is an
entirely different thing."
"I should hope so, indeed!" suddenly bending forward and catching her in
his arms with a happy laugh. "You see how strong I am. Well, then, you
needn't expect to have your own way all the time much longer. I yield
only so far as to give you three days--exactly three days from the
moment that I leave this house, and not one moment more. At the end of
that time I shall come to see the judge."
"And uncle Philip. I couldn't be happy without his approval. I have been
longing to tell him. I would have told him at once if I hadn't felt
bound to speak to William first. Dear uncle Philip! He is always happy
over anything that makes me happy. Next to you, dear heart, there is no
one in all the world that I love so much--not half so much. And there is
no one whom he loves as he does me; he thinks only of my happiness."
Her eyes sought his with a wistful look. She felt that he did not like
Philip Alston, and there was distress in the thought that these two,
whom she loved most out of all on earth, should not be the warmest of
friends.
"You mustn't think him indifferent because he hasn't been to see you,"
she pleaded. "Please don't think that, for it isn't true. He hasn't come
because he never can bear the sight of suffering. He says it's purely a
physical peculiarity which he cannot control. Anything that makes him
think of violence or cruelty shocks and repulses him. He shrinks from it
as he would from a harsh sound or an evil odor. He says it's because his
refinement is grea
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