He did not answer at once, but stood upright again beside her, grasping the rail.
"No matter, if you do not understand," he said at last. "Can I give you any proof that it is not for myself, because I love you, that I want to keep you from Harmon? Shall I promise you that when I have succeeded I will not see you again as long as I live?"
"Oh, no! No!" The cry was sudden, low, and heartfelt.
Wimpole squeezed the cold railing a little harder in his hands, but did not move.
"Is there any proof at all that I could give you? Try and think."
"Why should I need proof?" asked Helen. "I believe you, as I always have."
"Well, then--" he began, but she interrupted him.
"That does not change matters," she continued. "You are right merely because you are perfectly disinterested for yourself, and altogether interested for me alone. I am not the only person to be considered."
"I think you are. And if any one else has any right to consideration, it is Archie."
"I know," Helen answered, "and you hurt me again when you say it. But besides all of us, there is Henry."
"And what right has he?" asked Wimpole, almost fiercely. "What right has he to any sort of consideration from you, or from any one? If you had a brother, he would have wrung Harmon’s neck long ago! I wish I had the right!"
"I never heard you say anything brutal before," said Helen.
"I never had such good cause," retorted Wimpole, a little more quietly. "Put yourself in my position. I have loved you all my life,--God knows I have loved you honestly, too,--and held my tongue. And Harmon has spent his life in ruining yours in every way,--in ways I know and in ways I don’t know, but can more than half guess. He neglected you, he was unfaithful to you, he insulted you, and at last he struck you. I have found that out to-day, and that blow must have nearly killed you. I know about those things. Do you expect me to have any consideration for the brute who has half killed the woman I love? Do you expect me to keep my hands off the man whose hands have struck you and wounded you? By the Lord, Helen, you are expecting too much of human nature! Or too little--I don’t know which!"
He had controlled his temper long, keeping down the white heat of it in his heart, but he could not be calm forever. The fighting instinct was not lost yet, and must have its way.