She stood by the table, not offering to sit down. Her eyelids
were dropped half over her eyes; her teeth were shut, not
compressed; her lips were just parted over them, allowing the
white line to be seen between their curve. Her slow deep
breathings dilated her thin and beautiful nostrils; it was the
only motion visible on her countenance. The fine-grained skin,
the oval cheek, the rich outline of her mouth, its corners deep
set in dimples,--were all wan and pale to-day; the loss of their
usual natural healthy colour being made more evident by the heavy
shadow of the dark hair, brought down upon the temples, to hide
all sign of the blow she had received. Her head, for all its
drooping eyes, was thrown a little back, in the old proud
attitude. Her long arms hung motion-less by her sides. Altogether
she looked like some prisoner, falsely accused of a crime that
she loathed and despised, and from which she was too indignant to
justify herself.
Mr. Thornton made a hasty step or two forwards; recovered
himself, and went with quiet firmness to the door (which she had
left open), and shut it. Then he came back, and stood opposite to
her for a moment, receiving the general impression of her
beautiful presence, before he dared to disturb it, perhaps to
repel it, by what he had to say.
'Miss Hale, I was very ungrateful yesterday--' 'You had nothing to be grateful for,' said she, raising her eyes,
and looking full and straight at him. 'You mean, I suppose, that
you believe you ought to thank me for what I did.' In spite of
herself--in defiance of her anger--the thick blushes came all
over her face, and burnt into her very eyes; which fell not
nevertheless from their grave and steady look. 'It was only a
natural instinct; any woman would have done just the same. We all
feel the sanctity of our sex as a high privilege when we see
danger. I ought rather,' said she, hastily, 'to apologise to you,
for having said thoughtless words which sent you down into the
danger.' 'It was not your words; it was the truth they conveyed,
pun-gently as it was expressed. But you shall not drive me off
upon that, and so escape the expression of my deep gratitude,
my--' he was on the verge now; he would not speak in the haste of
his hot passion; he would weigh each word. He would; and his will
was triumphant. He stopped in mid career.
'I do not try to escape from anything,' said she. 'I simply say,
that you owe me no gratitude; and I may add, that any expression
of it will be painful to me, because I do not feel that I deserve
it. Still, if it will relieve you from even a fancied obligation,
speak on.' 'I do not want to be relieved from any obligation,' said he,
goaded by her calm manner. Fancied, or not fancied--I question
not myself to know which--I choose to believe that I owe my very
life to you--ay--smile, and think it an exaggeration if you will.
I believe it, because it adds a value to that life to think--oh,
Miss Hale!' continued he, lowering his voice to such a tender
intensity of passion that she shivered and trembled before him,
'to think circumstance so wrought, that whenever I exult in
existence henceforward, I may say to myself, "All this gladness
in life, all honest pride in doing my work in the world, all this
keen sense of being, I owe to her!" And it doubles the gladness,
it makes the pride glow, it sharpens the sense of existence till
I hardly know if it is pain or pleasure, to think that I owe it
to one--nay, you must, you shall hear'--said he, stepping
forwards with stern determination--'to one whom I love, as I do
not believe man ever loved woman before.' He held her hand tight
in his. He panted as he listened for what should come. He threw
the hand away with indignation, as he heard her icy tone; for icy
it was, though the words came faltering out, as if she knew not
where to find them.