Her hands were locked together in a clasp that expelled the blood and left them white.  Her regard had the intentness of a stare.

“If you love me, if you’re going away—­” She suddenly became agitated.  “Oh, I am unhappy!” And with a quick movement she bent her head aside.

“Louise, forgive me for causing this distress,” he exclaimed.

Without looking about she put out a hand, touched and pressed his.  The unexpected act filled Bryant with amazement.  He sat gazing stupidly at the hand until she withdrew it.  Then he found an explanation.

“You feel compassion for me,” he said.  “You would.”  A sound, low, inarticulate, reached him.  “It’s your kind nature to make some return for my love even if it’s not love you can give.  Or ought to give!  I’m expecting nothing, can expect nothing.  That is out of the question.  If I were entirely calm and rational, I should doubtless be asking myself why I should speak of my passion instead of trying to tear it out of my heart.  But, of course, being in love I’m neither the one nor the other.  The only explanation for the impulse to pour out a confession like this is overcharged nerves.  Or, after all, is it just unconscious egotism?” His composure had slipped off and his tone had grown savage.

“Don’t, don’t, Lee!  Don’t cut at yourself!”

“What was it I had started to say?  Oh, yes.  I had said I felt no compunction in brushing aside the usual conventions of duty as proscribed for an engaged man.  Cobwebs in my case!  Why pretend lies?  No honour is involved that I can discover.  I don’t love Ruth, and I think she’s incapable of loving me or any one else.  She never felt half the affection I did for her, and mine withered quickly, God knows!  A dash of passion on my part, and lonesomeness and the belief I should have wealth on her side—­there’s the salad.”

Louise leaned forward a little breathlessly.

“And if she believes you’re ruined?” she asked.

“She’ll hold me if she thinks she can’t do better,” Lee responded, bitterly.  “I at least beat homesteading.”

“Lee!”

Louise had risen.  The pallor of her face startled him.  Her hands were fast clenched.

“What is it?” he asked, fearfully.

“I can bear this.  To have you love me—­love me and go away!  It will break my heart.  To stay here alone!”

The words struck his brain as if they were cast in a fierce glare of light.  The suddenness of the knowledge they gave, the revelation they made, left him speechless.  Louise loved him in return.  The first effect upon his mind was to produce a blank incredulity; he stared at her as if to ascertain whether or not this was in truth she; for though he well knew he possessed her friendship, he had never conceived so fantastic a possibility as that of winning her love.  Then a swift exaltation succeeded.  He swam in a kind of spiritual ether.

“Louise, Louise, my dear beloved!” he murmured.