There was a pause, during which I could hear the beating of my own heart.
"Well," at length said Cornelius, "did you give him that promise?"
"Guess!" I answered, and that he might not read the truth in my face, I averted it from his gaze.
"Guess!" he echoed, with a groan, "imprudent girl, I guess but too easily. Oh, Daisy! how could you pledge yourself, how could you promise that which may be the misery of your whole life."
"Cornelius, I did not promise."
"But you love him!" he exclaimed with a sort of despair, "and love is surer than vows."
In the reply which I then should have made, there was no cause for shame, yet my eyes sought the ground, my face burned, and I hesitated and paused. When I at length looked up, dreading to meet the glance of Cornelius, I perceived that his eyes were riveted on William Murray, who had come up the steep path unheard, and now stood leaning on the low wooden gate, looking at us sadly and gravely. I was the first to break the awkward pause that followed.
"I thought you were gone. William," I said, rising, and taking a step towards him.
"I could not make up my mind to it," he replied, giving me a look of half reproach. "I could not go without bidding you once more good-bye."
He held out his hand to me; I gave him mine across the gate. He took it, and keeping it clasped in his, he turned to Cornelius, and said with repressed emotion:
"I don't know why I should be ashamed of it--I am not ashamed of it--Mr.
O'Reilly, I love her with my whole heart. I don't think there is another girl like her; at least I am very sure there is not another one for me. I think she likes me; but, hard as I begged, she would promise me nothing-- she could not she said without your knowledge or consent; I said I wanted nobody's knowledge or consent, to like her. We parted rather angrily; but I thought better of it, and came back to speak to you, since she wished it. And look! even here in your presence, she takes her hand from me, lest you should not like it."
I did, indeed, withdraw my hand from his, as he spoke, partly because from friendship William had gone to love, partly because I had met the look of Cornelius, which disturbed me.
"Mr. O'Reilly," said William, looking at him very fixedly, "do you object?"
"No," coldly answered Cornelius.
William opened the gate, and stepped in with a triumphant look.
"Do you hear that, Daisy?" he exclaimed.
"Do not misunderstand me," quietly said Cornelius. "I do not object; but if Daisy wishes for my advice, I certainly advise her not to enter at seventeen into an engagement destined to last her whole life. The human heart changes; it will often loathe the very object of its former wishes, and often, too, learn to long too late for that which it once dreaded as utter misery."
"_I_ shall not change!" exclaimed William, giving him an impatient look: "but of course if you advise Daisy against promises, there will be none.
I need none to bind me to her; and if she will only promise to try and like me--"
"And why should she?" sharply interrupted Cornelius; "what have you done for her to deserve such a promise? What proof has she that you will always deserve it, even as much as you do now?"
"I'll tell you what, Mr. O'Reilly," said William, with sparkling eyes, "my opinion is, that though you make a fair show, like most of your countrymen, it is all a humbug, and that you want to keep Daisy for yourself!"
Cornelius laughed scornfully, as if disdaining to resent the petulant jealousy of a boy; but I saw his colour rise, and his brow knit slightly.
I hastened to interfere; I stepped up to William; I looked up in his face; I took his hands in mine, and pressed them to my heart.
"William," I said sadly, "why did you come back? I wish I had spoken more plainly: I love you, but not, indeed, as you mean; I love you as my friend, as a brother, but not otherwise."
"Not otherwise!" he said, seeking aw look; "that is hard, Daisy, not otherwise."
I turned my head away.
"And yet we have been such good friends!"
"And are still, William."
"Then be my best friend."
"Gladly."
"Well! what is to marry but to be best friends? Do I not like you more than any other creature? Would I not know you among a thousand? Have I a thought I would not tell you? Not one. And, indeed, I think you, too, like me more than you think now."
"No, William, I do not."
"Do not be in such a hurry to reply," he answered, with a wishful look; "it may take you longer to find out, than it did me."
In his earnestness he had forgotten all about the presence of Cornelius.
His importunity wrung the truth from me.
"William," I said, "this cannot be; I might promise to try to like you as you wish; but I could not keep that promise. There is a power and a charm that binds me to home, a tie that links me to Cornelius and to Kate, and which I cannot break even for your sake. Believe me, whilst I remain with them, I can love you very dearly; but if I were with you I should be too home-sick and too heart-sick to think of you, William. If we went out together, I know that even with my arm within yours, or your hand in mine, my eyes would ever be seeking out for them, my feet leading me to their dwelling. I like you, William, I like you dearly, but I cannot give you my whole heart."
William gave me one look; the tears rushed in his eyes; he dropped my hands.
"God bless you, Daisy," he said, and turned away. The gate closed on him; he slowly descended the path. I did not call him back, but sitting down on the bench, I hid my face in my hands and wept bitterly. I felt and felt truly that we had parted to meet no more; that my faithful companion and friend was lost to me, and the pleasant tie of my childhood and youth broken for ever.
For awhile Cornelius let me weep; then he did his best to soothe and console me. The very sound of his voice brought comfort to my heart; my tears lost their bitterness, at length they ceased to flow, and I could hear and speak with calmness.
"And so," said Cornelius, bending over me, his right hand clasping mine, his left resting on the back of the bench behind me, "and so it was only friendship after all which you felt for William Murray."
"You seem surprised, Cornelius."
"There was every appearance and every chance against it."
"I don't grant the chance."
"Because you have lived an isolated life, and know not that the first thing a youth and maiden, situated as you and William were, think of, is to get engaged as fast as they can."
"Was that what you thought yesterday, Cornelius?"
"Why did you not undeceive me?"
"Why did you not ask?"
"I did not like to put the question."
"Nor I to speak unquestioned. I had never dreamed that William, with whom I was so free, so friendly, with whom I played, picked up shells, and ran about, could think of such a thing. How could you, Cornelius?"
"Why not? he was your friend, and a fine young man, too."
"Yes," I replied, "and as good-looking as a very fair man can be. But his looks have nothing to do with what I mean, Cornelius."