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."Besides, I am older than you," she remarked suddenly, opening her eyes and looking up at him, "three years older.""Hush, you are only a child, and I am forty years older than you, in experience," was his answer.In truth, they were children together, so far as love was concerned, and they were as naive and immature in the expression of their loveas a pair of children, and this despite the fact that she was crammed with a university education and that his head was full of scientificphilosophy and the hard facts of life.They sat on through the passing glory of the day, talking as lovers are prone to talk, marvelling at the wonder of love and at destinythat had flung them so strangely together, and dogmatically believing that they loved to a degree never attained by lovers before.Andthey returned insistently, again and again, to a rehearsal of their first impressions of each other and to hopeless attempts to analyze justMartin Eden 69/161Martin Edenprecisely what they felt for each other and how much there was of it.The cloud-masses on the western horizon received the descending sun, and the circle of the sky turned to rose, while the zenithglowed with the same warm color.The rosy light was all about them, flooding over them, as she sang, "Good-by, Sweet Day." Shesang softly, leaning in the cradle of his arm, her hands in his, their hearts in each other's hands.CHAPTER XXIIMrs.Morse did not require a mother's intuition to read the advertisement in Ruth's face when she returned home.The flush that wouldnot leave the cheeks told the simple story, and more eloquently did the eyes, large and bright, reflecting an unmistakable inward glory."What has happened?" Mrs.Morse asked, having bided her time till Ruth had gone to bed."You know?" Ruth queried, with trembling lips.For reply, her mother's arm went around her, and a hand was softly caressing her hair."He did not speak," she blurted out."I did not intend that it should happen, and I would never have let him speak--only he didn'tspeak.""But if he did not speak, then nothing could have happened, could it?""But it did, just the same.""In the name of goodness, child, what are you babbling about?" Mrs.Morse was bewildered."I don't think I know what happened,after all.What did happen?"Ruth looked at her mother in surprise."I thought you knew.Why, we're engaged, Martin and I."Mrs.Morse laughed with incredulous vexation."No, he didn't speak," Ruth explained."He just loved me, that was all.I was as surprised as you are.He didn't say a word.He just puthis arm around me.And--and I was not myself.And he kissed me, and I kissed him.I couldn't help it.I just had to.And then I knew Iloved him."She paused, waiting with expectancy the benediction of her mother's kiss, but Mrs.Morse was coldly silent."It is a dreadful accident, I know," Ruth recommenced with a sinking voice."And I don't know how you will ever forgive me.But Icouldn't help it.I did not dream that I loved him until that moment.And you must tell father for me.""Would it not be better not to tell your father? Let me see Martin Eden, and talk with him, and explain.He will understand and releaseyou.""No! no!" Ruth cried, starting up."I do not want to be released.I love him, and love is very sweet.I am going to marry him--ofcourse, if you will let me.""We have other plans for you, Ruth, dear, your father and I--oh, no, no; no man picked out for you, or anything like that.Our plans gono farther than your marrying some man in your own station in life, a good and honorable gentleman, whom you will select yourself,when you love him.""But I love Martin already," was the plaintive protest."We would not influence your choice in any way; but you are our daughter, and we could not bear to see you make a marriage such asthis.He has nothing but roughness and coarseness to offer you in exchange for all that is refined and delicate in you.He is no matchfor you in any way.He could not support you.We have no foolish ideas about wealth, but comfort is another matter, and our daughterMartin Eden 70/161Martin Edenshould at least marry a man who can give her that--and not a penniless adventurer, a sailor, a cowboy, a smuggler, and Heaven knowswhat else, who, in addition to everything, is hare-brained and irresponsible."Ruth was silent.Every word she recognized as true."He wastes his time over his writing, trying to accomplish what geniuses and rare men with college educations sometimes accomplish.A man thinking of marriage should be preparing for marriage.But not he.As I have said, and I know you agree with me, he isirresponsible.And why should he not be? It is the way of sailors.He has never learned to be economical or temperate.The spendthriftyears have marked him.It is not his fault, of course, but that does not alter his nature.And have you thought of the years oflicentiousness he inevitably has lived? Have you thought of that, daughter? You know what marriage means."Ruth shuddered and clung close to her mother."I have thought." Ruth waited a long time for the thought to frame itself."And it is terrible.It sickens me to think of it.I told you itwas a dreadful accident, my loving him; but I can't help myself.Could you help loving father? Then it is the same with me.There issomething in me, in him--I never knew it was there until to-day--but it is there, and it makes me love him.I never thought to lovehim, but, you see, I do," she concluded, a certain faint triumph in her voice.They talked long, and to little purpose, in conclusion agreeing to wait an indeterminate time without doing anything.The same conclusion was reached, a little later that night, between Mrs.Morse and her husband, after she had made due confession ofthe miscarriage of her plans."It could hardly have come otherwise," was Mr.Morse's judgment."This sailor-fellow has been the only man she was in touch with [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]