The Argosy — page 185: what you’re looking at

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

168 Isabel Clifford, M.D. saw his altered dress and his altered face. Yet before her eyes there rose the vision of that day upon the Simmelhorn when she had left him with the words that made the life-long separation between them : “ You could not respect me.” She saw the burning flush of pain that had suffused those pale cheeks, and the hopeless appeal in his eyes as she had passed him to return to the hotel. After a few minutes of general conversation he came close to the table where she was making tea and said: “May I ask for a few words with you alone, now or soon? I will not detain you long—or say anything to trouble you,” he added very gently as he saw that she was moved. ‘“‘T shall be alone at this time to-morrow,” she answered simply, and held out her hand, for Mrs. Lawrence was taking leave. Isabel was glad to notice that her friend seemed to know nothing of what had just taken place: she could not bear the interference of even the most loving hand at this time. Yet Mrs. Lawrence saw more than she appeared to see. The next morning passed quickly, and Isabel had only returned from an extra visit after luncheon when Francis was announced. She went to the dining-room, where he had been shown by her directions, — and found him standing by the mantelpiece. He declined a chair, but placed one for her and began abruptly : “T only want to tell you what I have learned since I knew you first. I had been living in my books and in myself when I met you, and I knew almost nothing of the world where you were living and working, and where [am now. [I thought I knew my own duty and yours. I was mistaken. I knew neither. I was utterly wrong. Forgive me.” “Have you finished?” asked Isabel, looking up for a moment. “Yes, I forgive you for what you said about us all. I have nothing to forgive for myself. But I am glad that you understand that one cannot live among these people and see the terrible things that we see without longing to help them. But I ought to ask you to forgive © me,” she went on smiling. ‘Do you know that it was I who told little Maggie’s mother to ask you to visit her ?” “Yes—I shall be grateful to you all my life for that,” he said in his quietest tones. ‘‘ But now I must go. I want you to understand that though I never can forget—I never can cease to love you—I will not intrude my love upon you again. You need not fear that I shall look for any return. And yet—” he went on as if in spite of himself—‘“ if you ever can forget what I once said and thought—if you ever can give me a chance to win you, I love you so that I think I might succeed. ‘There is work that we might do together—you and I. Oh, Isabel, if I might only try to win you!” “You may try,” she said softly. Gomilcbooks. co m