The Amateur Gentleman

"I am here to take you away to a cottage I have found for you--a

place in the country, where you will be safe until I can find and

bring your father to you."

As he ended, she lifted her head and looked at him through gathering

tears.

"How good--how kind of you!" she said, very softly, "and oh, I thank

you, indeed I do--but--"

"But, Clemency?"

"I must stay--here."

"In this awful place! Why?"

Clemency flushed, and looking down at the table, began to pleat a

fold in the cloth with nervous fingers.

"Poor little Nick hasn't been very well lately, and I--can't leave

him alone--" she began.

"Then bring him with you."

"And," she continued slowly, "when I wrote you that letter I

was--greatly afraid, but I'm--not afraid any longer. And oh, I

couldn't leave London yet--I couldn't!"

Now while she spoke, Barnabas saw her clasp and wring her hands

together, that eloquent gesture he remembered so well. Therefore he

leaned across the table and touched those slender fingers very gently.

"Why not? Tell me your trouble, my sister."

Now Clemency bowed her dark head, and when she spoke her voice was

low and troubled: "Because--he is ill--dangerously ill, Milo tells me,

and I--I am nearer to him here in London. I can go, sometimes, and

look at the house where he lies. So you see, I cannot leave him, yet."

"Then--you love him, Clemency?"

"Yes," she whispered, "yes, oh yes, always--always! That was why I

ran away from him. Oh, I love him so much that I grew afraid of my

love, and of myself, and of him. Because he is a great gentleman,

and I am only--what I am."

"A very good and beautiful woman!" said Barnabas.

"Beauty!" she sighed, "oh, it is only for that he--wanted me, and

dear heaven! I love him so much that--if he asked me--I fear--" and

she hid her burning face in hands that trembled.

"Clemency!"

The word was hoarse and low, scarcely more than a whisper, but, even

so, Clemency started and lifted her head to stare wide-eyed at the

figure leaning in the doorway, with one hand outstretched to her

appealingly; a tall figure, cloaked from head to foot, with hat

drawn low over his brows, his right arm carried in a sling. And as

she gazed, Clemency uttered a low, soft cry, and rose to her feet.

"My Lord!" she whispered, "oh, my Lord!"

"Dearest!"

The Viscount stepped into the room and, uncovering his head, sank

upon his knees before her.

"Oh, Clemency," said he, "the door was open and I heard it

all--every word. But, dearest, you need never fear me any

more--never any more, because I love you. Clemency, and here, upon

my knees, beg you to honor me by--marrying me, if you will stoop to

such a pitiful thing as I am. Clemency dear, I have been ill, and it

has taught me many things, and I know now that I--cannot live

without you. So, Clemency, if you will take pity on me--oh!

Clemency--!"