I want to
thank you for asking me to come here to-night and telling me. It was
a good deal kinder than to let me keep on coming. That would have
been rather hard on a fellow." Thomas Payne fairly laughed, although
his handsome face was white. "I hope it will all come right betwixt
you and Barney, Charlotte," he said, "and don't you worry about me, I
shall get on. I'll own this seems a little harder than it was before,
but I shall get on." Thomas brushed his bell hat carefully with his
cambric handkerchief, and stowed it under his arm. "Good-bye,
Charlotte," said he, in his old gay voice; "when you ask me, I'll
come and dance at your wedding."
Charlotte got up, trembling. Thomas reached out his hand and touched
her smooth fair head softly. "I never touched you nor kissed you,
except in games like that Copenhagen to-day," said he; "but I've
thought of it a good many times."
Charlotte drew back. "I can't, Thomas," she faltered. She could not
herself have defined her reason for refusing her cast-off lover this
one comfort, but it was not so much loyalty as the fear of disloyalty
which led her to do so. In spite of herself, she saw Barney for an
instant beside Thomas to his disadvantage, and her love could not
cover him, extend it as she would. The conviction was strong upon her
that Thomas was the better man of the two, although she did not love
him.
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