Rising with obvious weakness, he moved off toward the house; and Ruth, realizing that he had been prompted by consideration for her, sat still and wondered why she had refused him. He was modest, brave, unselfish, and cheerful; indeed, in character and person he was all that she admired; but she could not think of him as her husband. She pondered it, temporizing, half afraid to be quite honest with herself, until in a flash the humiliating truth was plain and she blushed with shame and anger. The love she could not give Aynsley had already been given, unasked, to another who had gone away and forgotten her.
She knew little about him, and she knew Aynsley well. Aynsley was rich, and Jimmy was obviously poor—he might even have other disadvantages; but she felt that this was relatively of small importance. Somehow he belonged to her, and, though she struggled against the conviction, she belonged to him. That was the end of the matter.
Growing cooler, she began to reason, and saw that she had blamed herself too hastily. After all, though Jimmy had made no open confession, he had in various ways betrayed his feelings, and there was nothing to prove that he had forgotten her. Poverty might have bound him to silence; moreover, there was reason to believe that he was away in a lonely region, cut off from all communication with the outer world. Perhaps he often thought about her; but these were futile speculations, and banishing them with an effort she went into the house.
The next day Clay found Ruth sitting on the veranda.
“So you would not have my boy!” he said abruptly.
“Has he told you?” she asked with some embarrassment.
“Oh, no! But I’m not a fool, and his downcast look was hint enough. I don’t know if you’re pleased to hear he has taken the thing to heart. It ought to be flattering.”
“I’m very sorry.” Ruth’s tone was indignant. “I think you are unjust.”
“And showing pretty bad taste? Well, I’m not a man of culture, and I’m often unpleasant when I’m hurt. I suppose you know the boy had set his whole mind on getting you? But of course you knew it, perhaps for some time; you wouldn’t be deceived on a point like that.”
“I can’t see what you expect to gain by trying to bully me!” Ruth flashed at him angrily, for her conscience pricked her.