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how they would have got along without you."

"I love them as I love my own father and mother, Jamie. I tried to act
towards them as though I was indeed their daughter."

He was silent for a while.

"We were both very young when we became engaged," he said at last.

He looked up quickly, but she did not answer. She stared with frightened
eyes, as if already she understood. It was harder even than he thought.
James asked himself desperately whether he could not stop there, taking
back what he had said. The cup was too bitter! But what was the
alternative? He could not go on pretending one thing when he felt
another; he could not live a constant, horrible lie. He felt there was
only one course open to him. Like a man with an ill that must be fatal
unless instantly treated, he was bound to undergo everything, however
great the torture.

"And it's a very bad return I'm making you for all your kindness. You
have done everything for me, Mary. You've waited for me patiently and
lovingly; you've sacrificed yourself in every way; and I'm afraid I must
make you very unhappy--Oh, don't think I'm not grateful to you; I can
never thank you sufficiently."

He wished Mary would say something to help him, but she kept silent. She
merely dropped her eyes, and now her face seemed quite expressionless.

"I have asked myself day and night what I ought to do, and I can see no
way clear before me. I've tried to say this to you before, but I've
funked it. You think I'm brave--I'm not; I'm a pitiful coward! Sometimes
I can only loathe and despise myself. I want to do my duty, but I can't
tell what my duty is. If I only knew for sure which way I ought to take,
I should have strength to take it; but it is all so uncertain."

James gave Mary a look of supplication, but she did not see it; her
glance was still riveted to the ground.

"I think it's better to tell you the whole truth, Mary; I'm afraid I'm
speaking awfully priggishly. I feel I'm acting like a cad, and yet I
don't know how else to act. God help me!"

"I've known almost from the beginning that you no longer cared for me,"
said Mary quietly, her face showing no expression, her voice hushed till
it was only a whisper.

"Forgive me, Mary; I've tried to love you. Oh, how humiliating that must
sound! I hardly know what I'm saying. Try to understand me. If my words
are harsh and ugly, it's because I don't know how to express myself. But
I must tell you the whole truth. The chi