A Damsel in Distress

"Oh!" he said, and was surprised that his voice sounded very much

the same as usual. Speech was so difficult that it seemed strange

that it should show no signs of effort. "That alters everything,

doesn't it."

"He said in his letter that he wanted me to meet him in London

and--talk things over, I suppose."

"There's nothing now to prevent your going. I mean, now that your

father has made this announcement, you are free to go where you

please."

"Yes, I suppose I am."

There was another silence.

"Everything's so difficult," said Maud.

"In what way?"

"Oh, I don't know."

"If you are thinking of me," said George, "please don't. I know

exactly what you mean. You are hating the thought of hurting my

feelings. I wish you would look on me as having no feelings. All I

want is to see you happy. As I said just now, it's enough for me to

know that I've helped you. Do be reasonable about it. The fact that

our engagement has been officially announced makes no difference in

our relations to each other. As far as we two are concerned, we

are exactly where we were the last time we met. It's no worse for

me now than it was then to know that I'm not the man you love, and

that there's somebody else you loved before you ever knew of my

existence. For goodness' sake, a girl like you must be used to

having men tell her that they love her and having to tell them that

she can't love them in return."

"But you're so different."

"Not a bit of it. I'm just one of the crowd."

"I've never known anybody quite like you."

"Well, you've never known anybody quite like Plummer, I should

imagine. But the thought of his sufferings didn't break your

heart."

"I've known a million men exactly like Edwin Plummer," said Maud

emphatically. "All the men I ever have known have been like

him--quite nice and pleasant and negative. It never seemed to

matter refusing them. One knew that they would be just a little bit

piqued for a week or two and then wander off and fall in love with

somebody else. But you're different. You . . . matter."

"That is where we disagree. My argument is that, where your

happiness is concerned, I don't matter."

Maud rested her chin on her hand, and stared out into the velvet

darkness.

"You ought to have been my brother instead of Percy," she said at

last. "What chums we should have been! And how simple that would

have made everything!"

"The best thing for you to do is to regard me as an honorary

brother. That will make everything simple."