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eyes. "Yes, yes. They pretend to avoid each other, but they are in love or I never saw two people in love. I suspected it in Washington, but I have become sure of it up here. What is the matter? I don't think she is his equal, if she is our thirty-first cousin, for I would bet my last dollar there was a misalliance somewhere--but you look almost horror-struck." "I was, but I can't tell you why. I don't believe it's true, though. She is not Jack's style. She hasn't a grain of humour in her." "When a man's imagination is captured by a beauty as perfect as that, he doesn't discover that it is without humour till he has married it. Besides, any man can fall in love with any woman; I'm convinced of that. You might as well try to turn this lake upside down as to mate types." "I don't think she would deceive me," exclaimed Betty, hopefully. "I cannot tell you all, but I am nearly sure she would never do that." "Any woman who has a secret constantly on her mind is bound to become secretive, not to say deceitful in other ways. What is her secret?" she asked abruptly. "Has she negro blood in her veins?" "Oh, Sally!" This time Betty did drop the oars, and her face was scarlet as she lunged after them. She was furious at having betrayed Harriet's secret, but Sally Carter had a fashion of going straight for the truth and getting it. "I thought so," said Miss Carter, dryly. "Don't take the trouble to deny it. And don't think for a moment, Betty dear, that I am going to embarrass you with further questions. I could never imagine you actuated by any but the highest motives. I should consider the whole thing none of my business if it were not for Jack. Faugh! how he would hate her if he knew!" "I am afraid he would. I don't believe he is man enough to love her better for her miserable inheritance." "He is a Southern gentleman; I should hope he would not. I am by no means without sympathy for her. I pity her deeply, and have ever since I discovered that she loved him. For he must be told." "Shall you tell him?" Sally did not answer for a moment, and her face flushed deeply. Then she said unsteadily: "No; for I could not be sure of my motive. Here is my secret. I have loved Jack Emory ever since I can remember. It is impossible for me to assure myself that I would consider interference in their affairs warrantable if I cared nothing for him. I cannot afford to despise myself for tattling out of petty jealousy. But you are responsible for her. You should tell him." "I will speak to her as soon as we go back. If it is true that they are engaged, and if she refuses to tell him, I shall. But I'd almost rather come out here and drown myself." "So should I." "You're a brick, Sally, and I wish to heaven you were going to marry Jack to-morrow. That would be a really happy marriage." "So I have thought for years! When he got over his attack of you, I began to hope, although I'd got wrinkles crying about him. I never thought of any other woman in the case." She laughed, with a defiant attempt to recover her old spirits. "And I cannot have the happiness of seeing him one day in bronze, and feeling that he is all mine! For he hasn't even that spark of luck which so often passes for infinitesimal greatness, poor dear!" "How did you guess that she had the taint in her?" asked Betty, as they were about to land. "She has not a suggestion of it in her face." "I _felt_ it. So vaguely that I scarcely put it in words to myself until lately. And I never saw such an amount of pink on finger-nails in my life." VI Betty went in search of Harriet, and found her in a summer-house reading an innocuous French romance which her professor had selected. There was no place near by where Miss Trumbull might lie concealed, and Betty went to the point at once. "Harriet," she said, "I am obliged to say something horribly painful-- if you want to marry any man you must tell him the truth. It would be a crime not to. The prejudices of--of--Southerners are deep and bitter; and--and--Oh, it is a terrible thing to have to say--but I must--if you had children they might be black." For a moment Betty thought that Harriet was dead, she turned so gray and her gaze was so fixed. But she spoke in a moment. "Why do you say this to me--now?" "Because I fear you and Jack--Oh, I hope it is not true. The person who thinks you love each other may have been mistaken. But I could not wait to warn you. I should have told you in the beginning that when the time came either you must tell the man or I should; but it was a hateful subject. God knows it is hard to speak now." Harriet seemed to have recovered herself. The colour returned slowly to her face, her heavy lids descended. She rose and drew herself up to her full height with the air of complete melancholy which recalled one or two other memorable occasions. But there was a subtle change. The attitude did not seem so natural to her as formerly. "Your informant was only half right," she said sadly. "I love him, but he cares nothing for me. He is the best, the kindest of friends. It is no wonder that I love him. I suppose I was bound to love the first man who treated me with affectionate respect. I reckon I'd have fallen in love with Uncle if he'd been younger. Perhaps--in Europe--I may get over it. But he does not love me." Betty rose and looked at her steadily. _What_ was in the brain behind those sad reproachful eyes? She laid her hand on the girl's shoulder. "Harriet," she said solemnly, "give me your word of honour that you will not marry him without telling him the truth. It may be that he does not love you, but he might--and if you were without hope you would be unhappy. Promise me." Down in the depths of those melancholy eyes there was a flash, then Harriet lifted her head and spoke with the solemnity of one taking an oath. "I promise," she said. "I will marry no man without telling him the truth." This time her tone carried conviction, and Betty, relieved, sought Sally Carter. "Nonsense!" exclaimed Miss Carter, when Betty had related the interview. "He is in love with her, although for some reason or other he is making an elaborate effort to conceal it." "She spoke very convincingly," said Betty, who would not admit doubt. "Anything with a drop of negro blood in it will lie. It can't help it.
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