Richard Forrest, Bachelor — page 121: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

112 PLEDGING HIS WORD. but he obediently kept silence. ‘‘In spite of this fact, how- ever, you judged rightly when you said you had satisfied yourself that I had learned to care for you. But I had no conception of the depth of my interest in you. Since I had resolved not to marry you, I thought it only a question of time when I could live down the attachment which I knew was already growing in my heart for you,’’ she resumed. ‘‘And so I allowed you to go away from me supposing that | I had tired of you, and had no thought of you beyond what I explained to you then. “Yes, in spite of my protestations to the contrary, that day you left me with the impression that I was precisely what I had assured you I was not. The fault was mine, of course, and I realized it then, but, I repeat, I believed it would end as so many affairs of the kind do, in a little bit- terness at first; afterward regret, and then forgetfulness. But I overestimated my own strength, at least, for,’’ and she lifted her eyes uncertainly to his face, as though to dis- cover whether or not to proceed. What she read there must have encouraged her, for she ended, hurriedly: ‘‘I confess it, I have missed you indescribably.”’ As she ceased she sank back upon the cushions, turning her face sharply from him. Inan instant he was at he. side, a volume of words on his lips. But none found utter ance except those two so old, yet so comprehensive: “My darling!’’ At last, after months of gloom, the sunshine had burst upon him in all its glory. She loved him; he heard it from her own lips. “Let me tell you now why I said no,”’ she said, present- ly, as the Caniche moved restlessly, evidently wondering whether this strange young man was going to leave any- CEOMNMCOOOKSa6OM