"Yes, you must have done so; my attentions to you could have but one interpretation, if I were a man of honor, and you knew I was that."
"I did, indeed," I exclaimed. And then my mind went, with a flash like lightning, to Randolph Chance, and I felt a sudden resentment. Had not he shown me attentions that no man of honor can bestow upon a woman, unless he wishes to make her his wife? Why had he left me in this strait? Why had he not spoken out? Why had he not claimed before the world that which he had taken such pains to win? I was uncertain about Randolph Chance; I had never been uncertain about Mr. Gregory. Why? Because I had perfect confidence in his honor. Was he not the better man--the more trustworthy? Why could I not marry him? I loved another man. A wave of shame and anger swept my face.
"I have all along been expecting to marry you. I have not been trifling," I cried out.
He stepped forward, and took my hand. It was as cold as ice.
"What is it then, Constance, that has changed you? Have I done anything since your illness to make you think less of me?"
I trembled from head to foot, and my lips were so stiff and dry that they scarce would do my bidding. I must have spoken very indistinctly.
"No--no," I said slowly; "I will tell you everything--I have done you a wrong, an unintentional wrong, but I will do penance--I have seen myself to-night--" I paused here; Mr. Gregory was a practical man; had I told him that a vision had changed my attitude, he would have thought me insane. I myself had begun to entertain doubts as to my sanity. "I know myself now," I faltered, "I know my heart--I love another man."
Mr. Gregory rose, and began pacing the floor.
"This surprises me greatly," he said at length; "there must have been another courtship--it would seem that you must have known something of how matters were tending."
"I have known nothing until to-night. There has been no courtship, in the ordinary acceptation of that word--I'll tell you all, even if it humbles me completely, as a penalty for what I have done to you. The man I love--" I could feel the blood mantling my face and neck, "has never addressed me."
Mr. Gregory paused, and looked at me.
"This is extraordinary," he said.