"Yes," said Will, impetuously, shaking his head backward, and looking

away from her with irritation in his face. "Of course I must wish it.

I have been grossly insulted in your eyes and in the eyes of others.

There has been a mean implication against my character. I wish you to

know that under no circumstances would I have lowered myself by--under

no circumstances would I have given men the chance of saying that I

sought money under the pretext of seeking--something else. There was

no need of other safeguard against me--the safeguard of wealth was

enough."

Will rose from his chair with the last word and went--he hardly knew

where; but it was to the projecting window nearest him, which had been

open as now about the same season a year ago, when he and Dorothea had

stood within it and talked together. Her whole heart was going out at

this moment in sympathy with Will's indignation: she only wanted to

convince him that she had never done him injustice, and he seemed to

have turned away from her as if she too had been part of the unfriendly

world.

"It would be very unkind of you to suppose that I ever attributed any

meanness to you," she began. Then in her ardent way, wanting to plead

with him, she moved from her chair and went in front of him to her old

place in the window, saying, "Do you suppose that I ever disbelieved in

you?"

When Will saw her there, he gave a start and moved backward out of the

window, without meeting her glance. Dorothea was hurt by this movement

following up the previous anger of his tone. She was ready to say that

it was as hard on her as on him, and that she was helpless; but those

strange particulars of their relation which neither of them could

explicitly mention kept her always in dread of saying too much. At

this moment she had no belief that Will would in any case have wanted

to marry her, and she feared using words which might imply such a

belief. She only said earnestly, recurring to his last word--

"I am sure no safeguard was ever needed against you."

Will did not answer. In the stormy fluctuation of his feelings these

words of hers seemed to him cruelly neutral, and he looked pale and

miserable after his angry outburst. He went to the table and fastened

up his portfolio, while Dorothea looked at him from the distance. They

were wasting these last moments together in wretched silence. What

could he say, since what had got obstinately uppermost in his mind was

the passionate love for her which he forbade himself to utter? What

could she say, since she might offer him no help--since she was forced

to keep the money that ought to have been his?--since to-day he seemed

not to respond as he used to do to her thorough trust and liking?




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