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Chapter IX. Dr. Bauerstein
ImeantLawrence.Not,ofcourse,thatIcarewhetherLawrencehatesmeornot.Still,it’sratherhorridwhennoonelovesyou,isn’tit?”
“Buttheydo,Cynthiadear,”Isaidearnestly.“I’msureyouaremistaken.Look,thereisJohn—andMissHoward——”
Cynthianoddedrathergloomily.“Yes,Johnlikesme,Ithink,andofcourseEvie,forallhergruffways,wouldn’tbeunkindtoafly.ButLawrenceneverspeakstomeifhecanhelpit,andMarycanhardlybringherselftobeciviltome.ShewantsEvietostayon,isbeggingherto,butshedoesn’twantme,and—and—Idon’tknowwhattodo.”Suddenlythepoorchildburstoutcrying.
Idon’tknowwhatpossessedme.Herbeauty,perhaps,asshesatthere,withthesunlightglintingdownonherhead;perhapsthesenseofreliefatencounteringsomeonewhosoobviouslycouldhavenoconnectionwiththetragedy;perhapshonestpityforheryouthandloneliness.Anyway,Ileantforward,andtakingherlittlehand,Isaidawkwardly:
“Marryme,Cynthia.”
Unwittingly,Ihadhituponasovereignremedyforhertears.Shesatupatonce,drewherhandaway,andsaid,withsomeasperity:
“Don’tbesilly!”
Iwasalittleannoyed.
“I’mnotbeingsilly.Iamaskingyoutodomethehonourofbecomingmywife.”
Tomyintensesurprise,Cynthiaburstoutlaughing,andcalledmea“funnydear.”
“It’sperfectlysweetofyou,”shesaid,“butyouknowyoudon’twantto!”
“Yes,Ido.I’vegot——”
“Nevermindwhatyou’vegot
