The Mistress of ShenstoneBarclay, Florence L. (Florence Louisa)
General
The Mistress of Shenstone
Barclay, Florence L. (Florence Louisa)
English fiction
"You are mine," he said, "not his. Your love is mine! Your body is mine!
Your whole life is mine! I will not leave you to another man. Ah, I know
I said we could not marry! I know I said I should go abroad. But you
would have remained faithful to me; and I, to you. We might have been
apart; we might have been lonely; we might have been at different ends of
the earth; but--we should have been each other's. I could have left you
to loneliness; but, by God, I will not leave you to another!"
Myra rose, moved forward a few steps and stood, leaning her arm upon the
mantelpiece and looking down upon the bank of ferns and lilies.
"Hush, Jim," she said, gently. "You forget to whom you are speaking."
"I am speaking," cried Jim Airth, in furious desperation, "to the woman I
have won for my own; and who is mine, and none other's. If it had not
been for my pride and my folly, we should have been married by
now--_married_, Myra--and far away. I left you, I know; but--by heaven, I
may as well tell you all now--it was pride--damnable false pride--that
drove me away. I always meant to come back. I was waiting for you to
send; but anyhow I should have come back. Would to God I had done as you
implored me to do! By now we should have been together--out of reach of
this cursed telegram,--and far away!"
Myra slowly lifted her eyes and looked at him. He, blinded by pain and
passion, failed to mark the look, or he might have taken warning. As it
was, he rushed on, headlong.
Myra, very white, with eyelids lowered, leaned against the mantelpiece;
slowly furling and unfurling the ivory fan.
"But, darling," urged Jim Airth, "it is not yet too late. Oh, Myra, I
have loved you so! Our love has been so wonderful. Have I not taught you
what love is? The poor cold travesty you knew before--_that_ was not
love! Oh, Myra! you will come away with me, my own belovèd? You won't put
me through the hell of leaving you to another man? Myra, look at me! Say
you will come."
Then Lady Ingleby slowly closed the fan, grasping it firmly in her right
hand. She threw back her head, and looked Jim Airth full in the eyes.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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