"I wish I knew whether you liked her or not."
"I do like her,--I love her better than any one in the world; better even than you, Mary; for I have asked her to be my wife."
"And she has refused me. Now you know the whole of it,--the whole history of what I have done while I have been away." And he stood up before her, with his thumbs thrust into the arm-holes of his waistcoat, with something serious and almost solemn in his gait, in spite of a smile which played about his mouth.
"I meant to have told you, of course, Mary,--to have told you everything; but I did not mean to tell it to-night; only it has somehow fallen from me. Out of the full heart the mouth speaks, they say."
"I never can like her if she refuses your love."
"Why not? That is unlike you, Mary. Why should she be bound to love me because I love her?"
"How can I tell? I did not ask her. I would not have asked her for the world, though I would have given the world to know."
"Beautiful! It isn't that so much;--though she is beautiful. But,--but,--I can't tell you why,--but she is the only girl that I ever saw who would suit me for a wife. Oh, dear!"
"But I'm not going to keep you up all night, Mary. And I'll tell you something else; I'm not going to break my heart for love. And I'll tell you something else again; I'm not going to give it up yet. I believe I've been a fool. Indeed, I know I've been a fool. I went about it just as if I were buying a horse, and had told the seller that that was my price,--he might take it or leave it. What right had I to suppose that any girl was to be had in that way; much less such a girl as Clara Amedroz?"
"It would have been a great match for her."
"I'm not so sure of that, Mary. Her education has been different from mine, and it may well be that she should marry above me. But I swear I will not speak another word to you to-night. To-morrow, if you're well enough, I'll talk to you all day." Soon after that he did get her to go up to her room, though, of course, he broke that oath of his as to not speaking another word. After that he walked out by moonlight round the house, wandering about the garden and farmyard, and down through the avenue, having in his own mind some pretence of the watchfulness of ownership, but thinking little of his property and much of his love. Here was a thing that he desired with all his heart, but it seemed to be out of his reach,--absolutely out of his reach. He was sick and weary with a feeling of longing,--sick with that covetousness wherewith Ahab coveted the vineyard of Naboth. What was the world to him if he could not have this thing on which he had set his heart? He had told his sister that he would not break his heart; and so much, he did not doubt, would be true. A man or woman with a broken heart was in his estimation a man or woman who should die of love; and he did not look for such a fate as that. But he experienced the palpable misery of a craving emptiness within his breast, and did believe of himself that he never could again be in comfort unless he could succeed with Clara Amedroz. He stood leaning against one of the trees, striking his hands together, and angry with himself at the weakness which had reduced him to such a state. What could any man be worth who was so little master of himself as he had now become?