“If that is the case, then I must accept your decision as final.”
He rose, and walked the room in silence again; then pausing once more, he said calmly, and with no trace of anger.
I said nothing. What could I say? To utter any platitudes about being sorry, would have been to insult him.
“A man cannot live to my age—I am fifty-two, Miss Leigh—without experiencing disappointment, but I have known nothing equal to this.”
He paced the room a few moments, and then said:
“This interview must be distressing to you. I am very sorry I brought it about before you were strong and well.”
“Say one thing before you go, Mr. Gregory,” I cried, “only say that you don’t think I have willfully misled you—say that you respect me still.”
His face was stirred by a slight quiver, as a placid lake is stirred by an impulse of the evening air.
“You have had, and you always will have my deepest respect, and my deepest affection.”
He took my hand silently, and then quietly left the room.
And I sat there until I heard the front door close. Then I went upstairs, but I remember nothing after reaching the first landing.
They found me lying there. They said I must have fainted.
I was badly upset for several days. For a time I resolutely put all thought of what had occurred from my mind, but as soon as I felt able, I sat down, with the whole matter before me, as it were, and deliberately looked it in the face. I think I never felt more inane in my life than when I remembered my folly, as I now regarded it. All that saved me from utter self-abasement was the fact that it had occurred at a time when I was at such a low ebb physically, by reason of illness. I determined to try to forget it, as speedily as possible. But, however keenly I felt the humiliation and folly of my emotion upon that strange night, it never occurred to me to waver, when recalling my decision to bring matters between Mr. Gregory and myself to an end. My refusal of him had been brought about by one cause, and only one—that I fully realized; and now that I had repudiated the cause, I might have been expected to reconsider the refusal. But I did not.
Soon after I was up and about once more, I learned that my little friend had not sent the flowers. I thought—no, I did not think! but I cherished secretly a—well, no! I cherished _nothing_ in secret or in public!