"What have you thought of that you wanted yet, Edith?" he asked lightly
as he stretched himself at her feet.
"You!"
Henderson lay tense and very still.
"Well, I am here!"
"Thank Heaven for that!"
Henderson sat up suddenly, leaning toward her with questioning eyes. Not
knowing what he dared say, afraid of the hope which found birth in his
heart, he tried to shield her and at the same time to feel his way.
"I am more thankful than I can express that you feel so," he said. "I
would be of use, of comfort, to you if I knew how, Edith."
"You are my only comfort," she said. "I tried to send you away. I
thought I didn't want you. I thought I couldn't bear the sight of you,
because of what you have seen me suffer. But I went to the root of this
thing last night, Hart, and with self in mind, as usual, I found that I
could not live without you."
Henderson began breathing lightly. He was afraid to speak or move.
"I faced the fact that all this is my own fault," continued Edith, "and
came through my own selfishness. Then I went farther back and realized
that I am as I was reared. I don't want to blame my parents, but I was
carefully trained into what I am. If Elnora Comstock had been like me,
Phil would have come back to me. I can see how selfish I seem to him,
and how I appear to you, if you would admit it."
"Edith," said Henderson desperately, "there is no use to try to deceive
you. You have known from the first that I found you wrong in this.
Pages:
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443