He knew it hurt by the agonizing expression of her face, but he could
not go near her for a moment, so overwhelming was his surprise at what
he saw and heard. But, when the first shock to them both was past, and
he could listen to her more rational account of what she knew and what
she was there to do, he refused to listen. He would not be free. He
would keep his word, he said. Matters had gone too far to be suddenly
ended. He held her to his promise and she must be his wife.
"Can you tell me truly that you love me more than Anna?" Lucy asked, a
ray of hope dawning for an instant upon her heart, but fading into
utter darkness as Arthur hesitated to answer.
He did love Anna best, though never had Lucy been so near supplanting
even her as at that moment, when she stood before him and told him he
was free. There was something in the magnitude of her generosity which
touched a tender chord and made her dearer to him than she had ever
been.
"I can make you very happy," he said at last, and Lucy replied: "Yes, but yourself--how with yourself? Would you be happy, too? No,
Arthur, you would not, and neither should I, knowing all I do. It is
best that we should part, though it almost breaks my heart, for I have
loved you so much."
She stopped for breath, and Arthur was wondering what he could say to
persuade her, when a cheery whistle sounded near and Thornton Hastings
appeared in the door. He had gone to the office after church, and not
knowing that anyone but Arthur was in the library, had come there at
once.
"I beg your pardon," he said when he saw Lucy, and he was hurrying
away, but Lucy called him back, feeling that in him she should find a
powerful ally to aid her in her task.
Appealing to him as Arthur's friend, she repeated the story rapidly,
and then went on: "Tell him it is best--he must not argue against me, for I feel myself
giving way through my great love for him, and it is not right. Tell
him so Mr. Hastings--plead my cause for me--say what a true woman
ought to say, for, believe me, I am in earnest in giving him to Anna."
There was a ghastly hue upon her face, and her features looked pinched
and rigid, but the terrible heart-beats were not there. God, in his
great mercy, kept them back, else she had surely died under that
strong excitement. Thornton thought she was fainting, and, going
hastily to her side, passed his arm around her and put her in the
chair; then, standing protectingly by her, he said just what first
came into his mind to say. It was a delicate matter in which to
interfere, and he handled it carefully, telling frankly of what had
passed between himself and Anna, and giving it as his opinion that she
loved Arthur to-day just as well as before she left Hanover.