I was innocent
enough. It was harmless play to me. But I have paid--and paid--and
paid! I would not have you, whom I cherish, rise each morning and
wonder why you had to be the only one to suffer out of thousands who
played the same way. And now will you please forgive me this
uncontrolled moment? I usually inflict them upon no one; I hide them
in my room. But, Barbara, I was so proud of him--so sure--so positive
that he was the only man in the world! And I lost my chance to tell
him how much I cared."
The riding-crop lay neglected on the floor. It had slipped and
clattered down while Barbara sat and stared at the tiny woman who was
dabbing at her eyes with a very girlish square of linen. And then
slowly Barbara rose and took an uncertain step or two. She sank to her
knees and pillowed her head upon Miss Sarah's lap. Momentarily she had
forgotten the struggle which was going on in her own heart. Now even
pity for the other could not keep her from turning hack to it.
"But I do not know," she gasped. "I--sometimes I think I must care,
and then I am afraid----" She lifted a face dry-eyed and tense. "I
ought to be proud of him, too. If I loved him I would be, wouldn't I?
If I cared I wouldn't ask anything more than just what he is. Don't
you see I'm only petty and rotten with snobbishness?"
Miss Sarah sniffed, ever so delicately.
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