England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Short stories, English
She rose in a fury. "How dare you use that word to me!" she cried. "Oh,
you are a brute! You are quite right: I don't love you--I hate you, I
despise you. Oh, you brute!"
"Don't," he said; "I only used that word because it's what people call
the thing when it's a man who feels it. With you it's what I said, the
unconscious awakening of the womanhood God gave you. Try to forgive me.
Have I said anything so very dreadful? It's a very little thing, dear,
the sweet kindness you've felt for me. It's nothing to be ashamed or
angry about. It's not a hundredth part of what I have felt when you have
kissed me. It's because it's such a poor foundation to build a home on
that I am frightened for you. Suppose you got tired of my kisses, and
there was nothing more in me that you did care for. And that sort of ...
lover's love doesn't last for ever--without the other kind of love--"
"Oh, don't say any more," she cried, jumping up from her chair. "I did
love you with all my heart. I was sorry for you. I thought you were so
different. Oh, how could you say these things to me? Go!"
"Shall I come back in a year?" he asked, smiling rather sadly.
"Come back? _Never!_ I'll never speak to you again. I'll never see you
again. I hope to God I shall never hear your name again. Go at once!"
"You'll be grateful to me some day," he said, "when you've found out
that love and being in love are not the same thing."
"What is love, then? The kind of love _you'd_ care for?"
"I care for it all," he said. "I think love is tenderness, esteem,
affection, interest, pity, protection, and passion. Yes, you needn't be
frightened by the word; it is the force that moves the world, but it's
only a part of love. Oh, I see it's no good. God bless you, child:
you'll understand some day!"
She does understand now; she has married her Cousin Reginald, and she
understands deeply and completely. But she only admits this in that
deep, shadowy, almost disowned corner of her heart. In the reception
room of her mind she still thinks of her first lover as "That Brute!"
DICK, TOM, AND HARRY
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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