The Argosy — page 181: what you’re looking at

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164 Isabel Clifford, M.D. “Certainly not,” he said with emphasis. “I could not respect such women.” The words, ‘‘I am one,” leaped to Isabel’s lips but got no further. The thought: ‘‘ What is that to him?” came next and forbade her to speak. She had almost forgotten what Mrs. Lawrence had told her, for she and Francis had seemed to agree so well in all else. She was angry with him, and angry with herself for being angry. ‘TI do not care for his opinion!” she said to herself proudly, as she went on before him. Her silence made him fear that his words had annoyed her. ‘Perhaps I ought not to have said that to you,” he said. “Vou ought not to say it to anyone,” she answered. ‘* You ought. not to think it.” As she spoke she looked down on him with glowing cheeks. Every feature was eloquent, yet he hardly knew what she meant. He felt stunned and then distressed, as she turned and walked on before him with a quick, resolute step. Presently the path grew difficult, and passing her without speaking, he offered her his hand. “Thank you. I need no help,” she said. “Pray forgive me if I have hurt you!” he pleaded, standing still on the narrow path. “ Hurt,” she answered with a little laugh. ‘“ That is a strong word to use.” His quick perception told him that this was intended to convey, “Nothing that you could say would hurt me.” He felt desperate. Nora’s words sounded in his ears: ‘‘ Have patience . . . . she is a woman worth winning . . . . don’t be hasty!” but he flung them recklessly away. | Will you sit down here for a moment,” he said. ‘‘I want to tell you something that you ought to know.” His tone was un- consciously hard and cold in the effort to seem unmoved, and she sat down with no thought of his purpose. Standing before her, he began: “Nora tells me that I should wait, but I cannot do that, for I love you so dearly that I cannot help telling you, even though I know there is very little hope that you could ever love me i She looked up at him now with one swift glance—it might have been of pity or it might have been only of surprise. Then with her eyes on the ground and in tones as quiet and as full of effort as his own, she answered : “You should not love me.” “T should not? Why?” ‘‘ Because you could not respect me,” she said, looking once more into his face. ‘‘I am a doctor.” IV. SOME months passed by before the Lawrences returned to their little home in Kensington. Isabel and Mrs. Lawrence had kept up a correspondence, and though on Isabel’s side it was necessarily scanty, Gomilcbooks.co m