The Business of Life

"A little."

"Why, if you please?"

"Because you never before have been demonstrative, even in speech."

She blushed: "Not as demonstrative as you are. But you know that I might learn to be."

He looked at her curiously, but with more or less self-control.

"Do you really care for me that way, Jacqueline?"

"I know of no way in which I don't care for you," she said quickly.

"Does your caring for me amount to – love?" he asked deliberately.

"I – think so – yes."

The emotion in his face was now palely reflected in hers; their voices were no longer quite steady under the sudden strain of self-repression.

"Say it, Jacqueline, if it is true," he whispered. His face was tense and white, but not as pale as hers. "Say it!" he whispered again.

"I can't – in words. But it is true – what you asked me."

"That you love me?"

"Yes. I thought you knew it long ago."

They stood very still, facing each other, breathing more rapidly. Her fate was upon her, and she knew it.

Captain Herrendene, who had waited, watched them for a moment more, then, lighting a cigarette, sauntered on carelessly, swinging his hockey-stick in circles.

Desboro said in a low, distinct voice, and without a tremor: "I am more in love with you than ever, Jacqueline. But that is as much as I shall ever say to you – nothing more than that."

"I know it."

"Yes, I know you do. Shall I leave you in peace? It can still be done. Or – shall I tell you again that I love you?"

"Yes – if you wish, tell me – that."

"Is love enough for you, Jacqueline?"

"Ask yourself, Jim. With what you give I must be content – or starve."

"Do you realise – what it means for us?" He could scarcely speak now.

"Yes – I know." She turned and looked back. Herrendene was now a long way off, walking slowly and alone. Then she turned once more to Desboro, absently, as though absorbed in her own reflections. Herrendene had asked her to marry him that morning. She was thinking of it now.

Then, in her remote gaze the brief dream faded, her eyes cleared, and she looked up at the silent man beside her.

"Shall I remain here with you?" she asked.

He made an effort to speak, but his voice was no longer under command. She waited, watching him; then they both turned and slowly entered the house together. Her hand had fallen into his, and when they reached the library he lifted it to his lips and noticed that her fingers were trembling. He laid his other hand over them, as though to quiet the tremor; and looked into her face and saw how colourless it had become.

"My darling!" But the time had not yet come when he could tolerate his own words; contempt for them choked him for a moment, and he only took her into his arms in silence.

She strove to think, to speak, to master her emotion; but for a moment his mounting passion subdued her and she remained silent, quivering in his embrace.

Then, with an effort, she found her voice and loosened his arms.

"Listen," she whispered. "You must listen. I know what you are – how you love me. But you are wrong! If I could only make you see it! If you would not think me selfish, self-seeking – believe unworthy motives of me – "

"What do you mean?" he asked, suddenly chilled.

"I mean that I am worth more to you than – than to be – what you wish me to be to you. You won't misunderstand, will you? I am not bargaining, not begging, not trading. I love you! I couldn't bargain; I could only take your terms – or leave them. And I have not decided. But – may I say something – for your sake more than for my own?"

"Yes," he said, coolly.

"Then – for your sake – far more than for mine – if you do really love me – make more of me than you have thought of doing! I know I shall be worth it to you. Could you consider it?"

After a terrible silence, he said: "I can – get out of your life – dog that I am! I can leave you in peace. And that is all."

"If that is all you can do – don't leave me – in peace. I – I will take the chances of remaining – honest – "

The hint of fear in her eyes and in her voice startled him.

"There is a martyrdom," she said, "which I might not be able to endure forever. I don't know. I shall never love another man. And all my life I have wanted love. It is here; and I may not be brave enough to deny it and live my life out in ignorance of it. But, Jim, if you only could understand – if you only knew what I can be to you – to the world for your sake – what I can become merely because I love you – what I am capable of for the sake of your pride in – in me – and – " She turned very white. "Because it is better for your sake, Jim. I am not thinking of myself, and how wonderful it would be for me – truly I am not. Don't you believe me? Only – there is so much to me – I am really so much of a woman – that it would begin to trouble you if ever I became anything – anything less than your – wife. And you would feel sorry for me – and I couldn't truthfully console you because all the while I'd know in my heart what you had thrown away that might have belonged to us both."

"Your life?" he said, with dry lips.

"Oh, Jim! I mean more than your life and mine! For our lives – yours and mine – would not be all you would throw away and deny. Before we die we would want children. Ought I not to say it?" She turned away, blind with tears, and dropped onto the sofa. "I'm wondering if I'm in my right mind," she sobbed, "for yesterday I did not even dare think of these things I am saying to you now! But – somehow – even while Captain Herrendene was speaking – it all flashed into my mind. I don't know how I knew it, but I suddenly understood that you belonged to me – just as you are, Jim – all the good, all the evil in you – everything – even your intentions toward me – how you may deal with me – all, all belonged to me! And so I went back to you, to help you. And now I have said this thing – for your sake alone, not for my own – only so that in years to come you may not have me on your conscience. For if you do not marry me – and I let myself really love you – you will wish that the beginning was to be begun again, and that we had loved each other – otherwise."

He came over and stood looking down at her for a moment. His lips were twitching.

"Would you marry me now," he managed to say, "now, after you know what a contemptible cad I am?"

"You are only a man. I love you, Jim. I will marry you – if you'll let me – "

Suddenly she covered her eyes with her hands. He seated himself beside her, sick with self-contempt, dumb, not daring to touch her where she crouched, trembling in every limb.

For a long while they remained so, in utter silence; then the doorbell startled them. Jacqueline fled to her room; Desboro composed himself with a desperate effort and went out into the hall.

He welcomed his guests on the steps when Farris opened the door, outwardly master of himself once more.

"We came over early, Jim," explained Daisy, "because Uncle John is giving a dinner and father and mother need the car. Do you mind?"

He laughed and shook hands with her and Elena, who looked intently and unsmilingly into his face, and then let her expressionless glance linger for a moment on her husband, who was holding out a huge hand to Desboro.

"I'm glad to see you, Clydesdale," said Desboro pleasantly, and took that bulky gentleman's outstretched hand, who mumbled something incoherent; but the fixed grin remained. And that was the discomforting – yes, the dismaying – characteristic of the man – his grin never seemed to be affected by his emotions.