John Ward, Preacher | Page 8

depended on your
writing, Giff, and you must tell me everything you can think of. What's
the good of having a friend in Lockhaven, if you don't?"
She had clasped her hands lightly on her knees, and was leaning
forward a little, looking at him; for he had turned away from her, and
was pulling at a bunch of violets. "I tell you what it is, Lois," he said; "I
cannot go away, and write to you, and not--and not tell you. I suppose
I'm a fool to tell you, but I can't help it."
"Tell me what?" Lois asked, bewildered.
"Oh," Gifford burst out, rising, and standing beside her, his big figure
looming up in the darkness, "it's this talk of friendship, Lois, that I
cannot stand. You see, I love you."

There was silence for one long moment. It was so still they could hear
the bubbling of the spring, like a soft voice, complaining in the
darkness. Then Lois said, under her breath, "Oh, Gifford!"
"Yes, I do," he went on, desperately. "I know you've never thought of
such a thing; somehow, I could not seem to make you see it,--you
wouldn't see it; but I do love you, and--and, Lois--if you could care,
just a little? I've loved you so long."
Lois shrank back against the silver-poplar tree, and put her hands up to
her face. In a moment tenderness made the young man forget his
anxiety. "Did I startle you?" he said, sitting down beside her; but he did
not take her hand, as he might have done in their old frank friendship.
"I'm so sorry, but I couldn't help telling you. I know you've been
unconscious of it, but how could a fellow help loving you, Lois? And I
couldn't go away to Lockhaven and not know if there was any chance
for me. Can you care, a--little?"
She did not speak until he said again, his voice trembling with a sudden
hope, "Won't you say one word, Lois?"
"Why, Giff," she said, sitting up very straight, and looking at him, her
wet eyes shining in the darkness, "you know I care--I've always cared,
but not that way--and--and--you don't, Giff, you don't really--it's just a
fancy."
"It is not a fancy," he answered quietly. "I knew I loved you that first
time I came home from college. But you were too young; it would not
have been right. And then before I went abroad, I tried to tell you once;
but I thought from the way you spoke you did not care. So I didn't say
anything more; but I love you, and I always shall."
"Oh, Gifford," Lois cried, with a voice full of distress, "you mustn't!
Why, don't you see? You're just like my brother. Oh, do please let us
forget all this, and let's be just as we used to be."
"We cannot," he said gently. "But I won't make you unhappy; I won't
speak if you tell me to be silent."

"Indeed, I do tell you to be silent," she said, in a relieved tone. "I--could
not, Giff. So we'll just forget it. Promise me you will forget it?"
He shook his head, with a slow smile. "You must forget it, if it will
make you any happier; but you cannot ask me to forget. I am happier to
remember. I shall always love you, Lois."
"But you mustn't!" she cried again. "Why can't we have just the old
friendship? Indeed--indeed, it never could be anything else; and," with
a sudden break of tenderness in her voice, "I--I really am so fond of
you, Giff!"
Here the young man smiled a little bitterly. Friendship separated them
as inexorably as though it had been hate!
"And," the girl went on, gaining confidence as she spoke, for argument
cleared the air of sentiment, in which she felt as awkward as she was
unkind, "and you know there are a good many things you don't like in
me; you think I have lots of faults,--you know you do."
"I suppose I do, in a way," he acknowledged; "but if I didn't love you
so much, Lois, I would not notice them."
Lois held her head a little higher, but did not speak. He watched her
twist her fingers nervously together; she had forgotten to take off the
little ring of braided grass.
"I am so sorry, Giff," she said, to break the silence,--"oh, so sorry. I--I
can't forgive myself."
"There is nothing to forgive," he answered gently; "and you must not
distress yourself by thinking that I am unhappy. I am better, Lois, yes,
and happier, because I love you. It shall be an inspiration to me all my
life, even if you should forget all about me. But I want you to make me