"I care for only one thing in this world," he said, tremulously. "Have I
lost it? I didn't mean to ask you, that last night, although you answered.
Have I no chance? Is it still the same? Do I come too late?"
The butterfly fluttered in his hand and then away.
She drew back and looked at him a moment.
"There is one thing you must always understand," she said gently, "and
that is that a woman can be grateful. I give you all the gratitude there
is in me, and I think I have a great deal; it is all yours. Will you
always remember that?"
"Gratitude? What can there--"
"You do not understand now, but some day you will. I ask you to remember
that my every act and thought which bore reference to you--and there have
been many--came from the purest gratitude. Although you do not see it now,
will you promise to believe it?"
"Yes," he said simply.
"For the rest--" She paused. "For the rest--I do not love you."
He bowed his head and did not lift it.
"Do you understand?" she asked.
"I understand," he answered, quietly.
She looked at him long, and then, suddenly, her hand to her heart, gave a
little, pitying, tender cry and moved toward him. At this he raised his
head and smiled sadly. "No; don't you mind," he said. "It's all right. I
was such a cad the other time I needed to be told; I was so entirely silly
about it, I couldn't face the others to tell them good-night, and I left
you out there to go in to them alone. I didn't realize, for my manners
were all gone. I'd lived in a kind of stupor, I think, for a long time;
then being with you was like a dream, and the sudden waking was too much
for me. I've been ashamed often, since, in thinking of it--and I was well
punished for not taking you in. I thought only of myself, and I behaved
like a whining, unbalanced boy. But I had whined from the moment I met
you, because I was sickly with egoism and loneliness and self-pity. I'm
keeping you from the dancing. Won't you let me take you back to the
house?"
A commanding and querulous contralto voice was heard behind them, and a
dim, majestic figure appeared under the Japanese lantern.
"Helen?"
The girl turned quickly. "Yes, mamma."
"May I ask you to return to the club-house for supper with me? Your father
has been very much worried about you. We have all been looking for you."