The American Claimant by Mark Twain

tongue and be safe from detection while you did it? You have not done

this–surely you have not done this thing. Oh, one’s enemy could not do

it.”

This was an aspect of the girl’s conduct which she had not clearly

perceived before. Was it treachery? Had she abused a trust? The

thought crimsoned her cheeks with shame and remorse.

“Oh, forgive me,” she said, ” I did not know what I was doing. I have

been so tortured–you will forgive me, you must; I have suffered so much,

and I am so sorry and so humble; you do forgive me, don’t you? –don’t

turn away, don’t refuse me; it is only my love that is at fault, and you

know I love you, love you with all my heart; I couldn’t bear to–oh,

dear, dear, I am so miserable, and I sever meant any harm, and I didn’t

see where this insanity was carrying me, and how it was wronging and

abusing the dearest heart in all the world to me–and–and–oh, take me

in your arms again, I have no other refuge, no other home and hope!”

There was reconciliation again-immediate, perfect, all-embracing–and

with it utter happiness. This would have been a good time to adjourn.

But no, now that the cloud-breeder was revealed at last; now that it was

manifest that all the sour weather had come from this girl’s dread that

Tracy was lured by her rank and not herself, he resolved to lay that

ghost immediately and permanently by furnishing the best possible proof

that he couldn’t have had back of him at any time the suspected motive.

So he said:

“Let me whisper a little secret in your ear–a secret which I have kept

shut up in my breast all this time. Your rank couldn’t ever have been an

enticement. I am son and heir to an English earl!”

The girl stared at him-one, two, three moments, maybe a dozen–then her

lips parted:

“You?” she said, and moved away from him, still gazing at him in a kind

of blank amazement.

“Why–why, certainly I am. Why do you act like this? What have I done

now?”

“What have you done?. You have certainly made a most strange statement.

You must see that yourself.”

“Well,” with a timid little laugh, “it may be a strange enough statement;

but of what consequence is that, if it is true?”

“If it is true. You are already retiring from it.”

“Oh, not for a moment! You should not say that. I have not deserved it.

I have spoken the truth; why do you doubt it?”

Her reply was prompt.

“Simply because you didn’t speak it earlier!”

“Oh!” It wasn’t a groan, exactly, but it was an intelligible enough

expression of the fact that he saw the point and recognized that there

was reason in it.

“You have seemed to conceal nothing from me that I ought to know

concerning yourself, and you were not privileged to keep back such a

thing as this from me a moment after–after–well, after you had

determined to pay your court to me.”

“Its true, it’s true, I know it! But there were circumstances–in–

in the way–circumstances which–”

She waved the circumstances aside.

“Well, you see,” he said, pleadingly, “you seemed so bent on our

traveling the proud path of honest labor and honorable poverty, that I

was terrified–that is, I was afraid–of–of–well, you know how you

talked.”

“Yes, I know how I talked. And I also know that before the talk was

finished you inquired how I stood as regards aristocracies, and my answer

was calculated to relieve your fears.”

He was silent a while. Then he said, in a discouraged way:

“I don’t see any way out of it. It was a mistake. That is in truth all

it was, just a mistake. No harm was meant, no harm in the world.

I didn’t see how it might some time look. It is my way. I don’t seem to

see far.”

The girl was almost disarmed, for a moment. Then she flared up again.

“An Earl’s son! Do earls’ sons go about working in lowly callings for

their bread and butter?”

“God knows they don’t! I have wished they did.”

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