The Wrong WomanStewart, Charles D. (Charles David)
General
The Wrong Woman
Stewart, Charles D. (Charles David)
Texas -- Fiction
"What? Did he do anything that wasn't on the square?" he asked sternly.
"Oh, I did n't mean it that way. It is always possible to be unfair in
Geography and History, you know,--and besides there is a good deal of
luck about it, too. He said he would have let me pass, but he had
decided to raise the standard."
She felt his arm stiffen behind her like an iron bar. She thought he
was going to rise.
"But he was _perfectly_ fair," she added quickly.
Steve's muscle relaxed slowly; he resumed his former lax attitude and
fell to thinking.
"You deserve to get a certificate and you _did n't_," he said, suddenly
sitting up again. "It is n't _right_."
This last word came out as sharp as a challenge to fight. He seemed to
have stiffened up in the saddle with the straight look of indomitable
will. Janet's eyes opened wider with the impression she got of him.
"Oh, it is n't a great matter--except that--of course--it is a little
disappointing."
"Yes. And somebody that it doesn't make any difference about will come
along and pass." His eye still had fight in it. "You like Texas?" he
said suddenly. "Don't you think it is a pretty good state?"
"Oh, yes, indeed," answered Janet. "I was very much in hope of being
able to stay. If I had only had more time to study--more time--"
There was a quaver in her voice, and she let the sentence end itself
there.
He sat for a moment looking straight at the middle of the path before
him. Then deliberately he turned about, put his arm behind her again,
and took her hand in his.
"Janet," he said, "if you had been here in two or three months from
now, there was a question I had all made up to ask you."
"A question?"
"As long as you might have to go away, I might as well tell you
now--before you are gone. I was going to ask you in two or three
months whether, if---- But no. That is n't fair. What I mean is,
_will_ you marry me? Would you?"
Janet paused during a space that would best be represented by a musical
rest--a silence in the midst of a symphony. Then her clear eyes turned
toward him.
"Yes, Steve; I would."
"You would! Do you mean that _now_--for keeps?"
"I could go and live with you anywhere in the world. I could _almost_
have answered that two days ago."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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