Ayala's Angel [107]
the ground. "It is because you are to me a creature so essentially different from Mrs Gregory that I seem to know you so well. I never want to go to Drumcaller if you are near me -- or, if I think of Drumcaller, it is that I might be there with you."
"I am sure the place is very pretty, but I don't suppose I shall ever see it."
"Do you know about your sister and Mr Hamel?"
"Yes," said Ayala, surprised. "She has told me all about it. How do you know?"
"He was staying at Drumcaller -- he and I together with no one else -- when he went over to ask her. I never saw a man so happy as when he came back from Glenbogie. He had got all that he wanted in the world."
"I do so love him because he loves her."
"And I love her -- because she loves you."
"It is not the same, you know," said Ayala, trying to think it all out.
"May I not love her?
"He is to be my brother. That's why I love him. She can't be your sister." The poor girl, though she had tried to think it all out, had not thought very far.
"Can she not?" he said.
"Of course not. Lucy is to marry Mr Hamel."
"And whom am I to marry?" Then she saw it all. "Ayala -- Ayala -- who is to be my wife?"
"I do not know," she said -- speaking with a gruff voice, but still in a whisper, with a manner altogether different -- thinking how well it would be that she should be taken at once back into the house.
"Do you know whom I would fain have as my wife?" Then he felt that it behoved him to speak out plainly. He was already sure that she would not at once tell him that it should be as he would have it -- that she would not instantly throw herself into his arms. But he must speak plainly to her, and then fight his cause as best he might. "Ayala, I have asked you to come out with me that I might ask you to be my wife. It is that that I did not wish Nina to hear at once. If you will put out your hand and say that it shall be so, Nina and all the world shall know it. I shall be as proud then as Hamel, and as happy -- happier, I think. It seems to me that no one can love as I do now, Ayala; it has grown upon me from hour to hour as I have seen you. When I first took you away to that dance it was so already. Do you remember that night at the theatre -- when I had come away from everything and striven so hard that I might be near to you before you went back to your home? Ayala, I loved you then so dearly -- but not as I love you now. When I saw you riding away from me yesterday, when I could not get over the brook, I told myself that unless I might catch you at last, and have you all to myself, I could never again be happy. Do you remember when you stooped down and kissed that man's baby at the farmhouse? Oh, Ayala, I thought then that if you would not be my wife -- if you would not be my wife -- I should never have wife, never should have baby, never should have home of my own." She walked on by his side, listening, but she had not a word to say to him. It had been easy enough to her to reject and to rebuke and to scorn Tom Tringle, when he had persisted in his suit; but she knew not with what words to reject this man who stood so high in her estimation, who was in many respects so perfect, whom she so thoroughly liked -- but whom, nevertheless she must reject. He was not the Angel of Light. There was nothing there of the azure wings upon which should soar the all but celestial being to whom she could condescend to give herself and her love. He was pleasant, good, friendly, kind-hearted -- all that a friend or a brother should be; but he was not the Angel of Light. She was sure of that. She told herself that she was quite sure of it, as she walked beside him in silence along the path. "You know what I mean, Ayala, when I tell you that I love you," he continued. But still she made no answer. "I have seen at last the one human being with whom I feel that I can be happy to spend my life, and, having seen her, I ask her to be my wife. The hope has been dwelling with me and growing since I first met you. Shall it be a vain hope? Ayala, may I still
"I am sure the place is very pretty, but I don't suppose I shall ever see it."
"Do you know about your sister and Mr Hamel?"
"Yes," said Ayala, surprised. "She has told me all about it. How do you know?"
"He was staying at Drumcaller -- he and I together with no one else -- when he went over to ask her. I never saw a man so happy as when he came back from Glenbogie. He had got all that he wanted in the world."
"I do so love him because he loves her."
"And I love her -- because she loves you."
"It is not the same, you know," said Ayala, trying to think it all out.
"May I not love her?
"He is to be my brother. That's why I love him. She can't be your sister." The poor girl, though she had tried to think it all out, had not thought very far.
"Can she not?" he said.
"Of course not. Lucy is to marry Mr Hamel."
"And whom am I to marry?" Then she saw it all. "Ayala -- Ayala -- who is to be my wife?"
"I do not know," she said -- speaking with a gruff voice, but still in a whisper, with a manner altogether different -- thinking how well it would be that she should be taken at once back into the house.
"Do you know whom I would fain have as my wife?" Then he felt that it behoved him to speak out plainly. He was already sure that she would not at once tell him that it should be as he would have it -- that she would not instantly throw herself into his arms. But he must speak plainly to her, and then fight his cause as best he might. "Ayala, I have asked you to come out with me that I might ask you to be my wife. It is that that I did not wish Nina to hear at once. If you will put out your hand and say that it shall be so, Nina and all the world shall know it. I shall be as proud then as Hamel, and as happy -- happier, I think. It seems to me that no one can love as I do now, Ayala; it has grown upon me from hour to hour as I have seen you. When I first took you away to that dance it was so already. Do you remember that night at the theatre -- when I had come away from everything and striven so hard that I might be near to you before you went back to your home? Ayala, I loved you then so dearly -- but not as I love you now. When I saw you riding away from me yesterday, when I could not get over the brook, I told myself that unless I might catch you at last, and have you all to myself, I could never again be happy. Do you remember when you stooped down and kissed that man's baby at the farmhouse? Oh, Ayala, I thought then that if you would not be my wife -- if you would not be my wife -- I should never have wife, never should have baby, never should have home of my own." She walked on by his side, listening, but she had not a word to say to him. It had been easy enough to her to reject and to rebuke and to scorn Tom Tringle, when he had persisted in his suit; but she knew not with what words to reject this man who stood so high in her estimation, who was in many respects so perfect, whom she so thoroughly liked -- but whom, nevertheless she must reject. He was not the Angel of Light. There was nothing there of the azure wings upon which should soar the all but celestial being to whom she could condescend to give herself and her love. He was pleasant, good, friendly, kind-hearted -- all that a friend or a brother should be; but he was not the Angel of Light. She was sure of that. She told herself that she was quite sure of it, as she walked beside him in silence along the path. "You know what I mean, Ayala, when I tell you that I love you," he continued. But still she made no answer. "I have seen at last the one human being with whom I feel that I can be happy to spend my life, and, having seen her, I ask her to be my wife. The hope has been dwelling with me and growing since I first met you. Shall it be a vain hope? Ayala, may I still