"It would have meant so much to all of us, Captain Frazer.""Perhaps.But to you and me--Ethel, I can't go out of life and give you up!" Pitifully, longingly, the blue eyes stared up at her face through the growing shadows of waning day and waning life.
Longingly, although the questioning look had left them.In its place was an infinite, contented love, an absolute trust.
The girl nerved herself to meet his eyes.Then she drew her own eyes away, to give another hasty, appealing glance up into Weldon's paling face.For him, as for her, the moment was all unexpected.For him, as for her, there was need of all the reserve strength in life to go through it honorably and without flinching.
Up to that very hour, no thought of Leo Frazer's love had crossed the mind of Ethel Dent.They had been friends, good comrades, meeting often and always with much pleasure.She had acknowledged to herself, long since, that he was a man among men; she honored him, admired him, cared for him as she might have cared for an only brother.Beyond that, she could not go.Moreover, it had never occurred to her that Captain Frazer could mistake her attitude to himself, could differentiate her light, bright cordiality from the cordiality she showed to other men.When she had met him first, she had been a mere girl in character and experience; love had had scant place in her girlish dreams.Later, Weldon had come into her life.
His coming had changed many things for her; but it had made no change in her attitude to the Captain.She was now, as always, his loyal, admiring friend, no less, no more.She had supposed that he had felt the same loyal friendship for her.Too late, she realized her mistake.
"You must have known it all, Ethel," the Captain was saying steadily; "how my whole life has seemed to go into yours.I have never told you.I was sure you knew it, without any telling, and Ihave been waiting until the war was over, before asking you to go home with me, as my wife.The--" he caught his breath sharply, "the war is over for me now, dearest.I can't ask you to go home with me;but--Tell me, Ethel, I have not been mistaken, all these months? You have cared for me, as I have cared for you?" The last words came out with the roundness of tone he had used in health; but there was a weary drag to the hand that drew her hand still nearer to his cheek.
Ethel faltered.Then, soldier-like, she braced herself to fight to a finish.It was not her fault that the man had mistaken her friendly, cordial liking for something deeper, infinitely more lasting.She had never consciously played with him, never sought to win his love.
Blame there was none; it was all only a mistake, albeit a terrible one.Nevertheless--Desperately she glanced up from the blue eyes, still so wishfully fixed upon her own, up to the drawn, white face of the haggard man on the farther side of the bed.In that instant, the girl fought madly with herself.Then her eyes dropped back to the bed once more.
Eternity and time; a final short, comforting word to the one, a long explanation to the other.The mistake, if mistake there were, had been all of her doing.Bravely she would take the bitter consequences.Captain Frazer's day was passing fast.The night remained for her talk with Weldon.Her eyes dropped back to the bed, and her hand yielded itself to the pressure of the ice-cold fingers.
"Yes," she said slowly and so faintly that Weldon, standing breathless, could scarcely hear the words; "I have cared for you, as you have cared for me."The fingers tightened over her hand; but the lids drooped heavily above the dark blue eyes.
"Dearest--girl." Then, smiling to himself, Captain Leo Frazer fell asleep.The next moment counted itself out by slow seconds.Then Ethel raised her head and turned to smile drearily up at Weldon.
Instead, she found herself smiling up at an empty wall.Harvard Weldon had vanished and had left for her no word of farewell.
