Chapter XXII--Fixing the Bounds

by Bram Stoker

　　Leonard came towards Normanstand next forenoon in considerable mentaldisturbance. In the first place he was seriously in love withStephen, and love is in itself a disturbing influence.Leonard's love was all of the flesh; and as such had power at presentto disturb him, as it would later have power to torture him. Again,he was disturbed by the fear of losing Stephen, or rather of notbeing able to gain her. At first, ever since she had left him on thepath from the hilltop till his interview the next day, he had lookedon her possession as an 'option,' to the acceptance of whichcircumstances seemed to be compelling him. But ever since, thatasset seemed to have been dwindling; and now he was almost beginningto despair. He was altogether cold at heart, and yet highly strungwith apprehension, as he was shown into the blue drawing-room.Stephen came in alone, closing the door behind her. She shook handswith him, and sat down by a writing-table near the window, pointingto him to sit on an ottoman a little distance away. The moment hesat down he realised that he was at a disadvantage; he was not closeto her, and he could not get closer without manifesting his intentionof so doing. He wanted to be closer, both for the purpose of hissuit and for his own pleasure; the proximity of Stephen began tomultiply his love for her. He thought that to-day she looked betterthan ever, of a warm radiant beauty which touched his senses withunattainable desire. She could not but notice the passion in hiseyes, and instinctively her eyes wandered to a silver gong placed onthe table well within reach. The more he glowed, the more icily calmshe sat, till the silence between them began to grow oppressive. Shewaited, determined that he should be the first to speak. Recognisingthe helplessness of silence, he began huskily:'I came here to-day in the hope that you would listen to me.' Heranswer, given with a conventional smile, was not helpful:'I am listening.''I cannot tell you how sorry I am that I did not accept your offer.If I had know when I was coming that day that you loved me . . . 'She interrupted him, calm of voice, and with uplifted hand:'I never said so, did I? Surely I could not have said such a thing!I certainly don't remember it?' Leonard was puzzled.'You certainly made me think so. You asked me to marry you, didn'tyou?' Her answer came calmly, though in a low voice:'I did.''Then if you didn't love me, why did you ask me to marry you?' Itwas his nature to be more or less satisfied when he had put any oneopposed to him proportionally in the wrong; and now his exultation athaving put a poser manifested itself in his tone. This, however,braced up Stephen to cope with a difficult and painful situation. Itwas with a calm, seemingly genial frankness, that she answered,smilingly:'Do you know, that is what has been puzzling me from that moment tothis!' Her words appeared to almost stupefy Leonard. This view ofthe matter had not occurred to him, and now the puzzle of it made himangry.'Do you mean to say,' he asked hotly, 'that you asked a man to marryyou when you didn't even love him?''That is exactly what I do mean! Why I did it is, I assure you, asmuch a puzzle to me as it is to you. I have come to the conclusionthat it must have been from my vanity. I suppose I wanted todominate somebody; and you were the weakest within range!''Thank you!' He was genuinely angry by this time, and, but for awholesome fear of the consequences, would have used strong language.'I don't see that I was the weakest about.' Somehow this set her onher guard. She wanted to know more, so she asked:'Who else?''Harold An Wolf! You had him on a string already!' The name camelike a sword through her heart, but the bitter comment braced her tofurther caution. Her voice seemed to her to sound as though faraway:'Indeed! And may I ask you how you came to know that?' Her voiceseemed so cold and sneering to him that he lost his temper stillfurther.'Simply because he told me so himself.' It pleased him to do in illturn to Harold. He did not forget that savage clutch at his throat;and he never would. Stephen's senses were all alert. She saw anopportunity of learning something, and went on with the same coldvoice:'And I suppose it was that pleasing confidence which was the cause ofyour refusal of my offer of marriage; of which circumstance you haveso thoughtfully and so courteously reminded me.' This, somehow,seemed of good import to Leonard. If he could show her that hisintention to marry her was antecedent to Harold's confidence, shemight still go back to her old affection for him. He could notbelieve that it did not still exist; his experience of other womenshowed him that their love outlived their anger, whether the same hadbeen hot or cold.'It had nothing in the world to do with it. He never said a wordabout it till he threatened to kill me--the great brute!' This waslearning something indeed! She went on in the same voice:'And may I ask you what was the cause of such sanguinary intention?''Because he knew that I was going to marry you!' As he spoke he feltthat he had betrayed himself; he went on hastily, hoping that itmight escape notice:'Because he knew that I loved you. Oh! Stephen, don't you know itnow! Can't you see that I love you; and that I want you for mywife!''But did he threaten to kill you out of mere jealousy? Do you stillgo in fear of your life? Will it be necessary to arrest him?'Leonard was chagrined at her ignoring of his love-suit, and in hisself-engrossment answered sulkily:'I'm not afraid of him! And, besides, I believe he has bolted. Icalled at his house yesterday, and his servant said they hadn't hearda word from him.' Stephen's heart sank lower and lower. This waswhat she had dreaded. She said in as steady a voice as she couldmuster:'Bolted! Has he gone altogether?''Oh, he'll come back all right, in time. He's not going to give upthe jolly good living he has here!''But why has he bolted? When he threatened to kill you did he giveany reason?' There was too much talk about Harold. It made himangry; so he answered in an offhand way:'Oh, I don't know. And, moreover, I don't care!''And now,' said Stephen, having ascertained what she wanted to know,'what is it that you want to speak to me about?'Her words fell on Leonard like a cold douche. Here had he beentalking about his love for her, and yet she ignored the whole thing,and asked him what he wanted to talk about.'What a queer girl you are. You don't seem to attend to what afellow is saying. Here have I been telling you that I love you, andasking you to marry me; and yet you don't seem to have even heardme!' She answered at once, quite sweetly, and with a smile ofsuperiority which maddened him:'But that subject is barred!''How do you mean? Barred!''Yes. I told you yesterday!''But, Stephen,' he cried out quickly, all the alarm in him and allthe earnestness of which he was capable uniting to his strengthening,'can't you understand that I love you, with all my heart? You are sobeautiful; so beautiful!' He felt now in reality what he was saying.The torrent of his words left no opening for her objection; it sweptall merely verbal obstacles before it. She listened, content in ameasure. So long as he sat at the distance which she had arrangedbefore his coming she did not fear any personal violence. Moreover,it was a satisfaction to her now to hear him, who had refused her,pleading in vain. The more sincere his eloquence, the larger hersatisfaction; she had no pity for him now.'I know I was a fool, Stephen! I had my chance that day on thehilltop; and if I had felt then as I feel now, as I have felt everymoment since, I would not have been so cold. I would have taken youin my arms and held you close and kissed you, again, and again, andagain. Oh, darling! I love you! I love you! I love you!' He heldout his arms imploringly. 'Won't you love me? Won't--'He stopped, paralysed with angry amazement. She was laughing.He grew purple in the face; his hands were still outstretched. Thefew seconds seemed like hours.'Forgive me!' she said in a polite tone, suddenly growing grave.'But really you looked so funny, sitting there so quietly, andspeaking in such a way, that I couldn't help it. You really mustforgive me! But remember, I told you the subject was barred; and as,knowing that, you went on, you really have no one but yourself toblame!' Leonard was furious, but managed to say as he dropped hisarms:'But I love you!''That may be, now,' she went on icily. 'But it is too late. I donot love you; and I have never loved you! Of course, had youaccepted my offer of marriage you should never have known that. Nomatter how great had been my shame and humiliation when I had come toa sense of what I had done, I should have honourably kept my part ofthe tacit compact entered into when I made that terrible mistake. Icannot tell you how rejoiced and thankful I am that you took mymistake in such a way. Of course, I do not give you any credit forit; you thought only of yourself, and did that which you liked best!''That is a nice sort of thing to tell a man!' he interrupted withcynical frankness.'Oh, I do not want to hurt you unnecessarily; but I wish there to beno possible misconception in the matter. Now that I have discoveredmy error I am not likely to fall into it again; and that you may nothave any error at all, I tell you now again, that I have not lovedyou, do not love you, and never will and never can love you.' Herean idea struck Leonard and he blurted out:'But do you not think that something is due to me?''How do you mean?' Her brows were puckered with real wonder thistime.'For false hopes raised in my mind. If I did not love you before,the very act of proposing to me has made me love you; and now I loveyou so well that I cannot live without you!' In his genuineagitation he was starting up, when the sight of her hand laid uponthe gong arrested him. She laughed as she said:'I thought that the privilege of changing one's mind was a femaleprerogative! Besides, I have done already something to makereparation to you for the wrong of . . . of--I may put it fairly, asthe suggestion is your own--of not having treated you as a woman!''Damn!''As you observe so gracefully, it is annoying to have one's own sillywords come back at one, boomerang fashion. I made up my mind to dosomething for you; to pay off your debts.' This so exasperated himthat he said out brutally:'No thanks to you for that! As I had to put up with the patronageand the lecturings, and the eyeglass of that infernal old woman, Idon't intend . . . 'Stephen stood up, her hand upon the gong:'Mr. Everard, if you do not remember that you are in my drawing-room,and speaking of my dear and respected aunt, I shall not detain youlonger!'He sat down at once, saying surlily:'I beg your pardon. I forgot. You make me so wild that--that . . .' He chewed the ends of his moustache angrily. She resumed herseat, taking her hand from the gong. Without further pause shecontinued:'Quite right! It has been Miss Rowly who paid your debts. At firstI had promised myself the pleasure; but from something in your speechand manner she thought it better that such an act should not be doneby a woman in my position to a man in yours. It might, if madepublic, have created quite a wrong impression in the minds of many ofour friends.'There was something like a snort from Leonard. She ignored it:'So she paid the money herself out of her own fortune. And, indeed,I must say that you do not seem to have treated her with muchgratitude.''What did I say or do that put you off doing the thing yourself?''I shall answer it frankly: It was because you manifested, severaltimes, in a manner there was no mistaking, both by words and deeds,an intention of levying blackmail on me by using your knowledge of myridiculous, unmaidenly act. No one can despise, or deplore, orcondemn that act more than I do; so that rather than yield a singlepoint to you, I am, if necessary, ready to face the odium which thepublic knowledge of it might produce. What I had intended to do foryou in the way of compensation for false hopes raised to you by thatact has now been done. That it was done by my aunt on my behalf, andnot by me, matters to you no more than it did to your creditors, who,when they received the money, made no complaint of injury to theirfeelings on that account.'Now, when you think the whole matter over in quietness, you will,knowing that I am ready at any time to face if necessary theunpleasant publicity, be able to estimate what damage you would do toyourself by any expose. It seems to me that you would come out of itpretty badly all round. That, however, is not my affair; it entirelyrests with yourself. I think I know how women would regard it. Idare say you best know how men would look at it; and at you!'Leonard knew already how the only man who knew of it had taken it,and the knowledge did not reassure him!'You jade! You infernal, devilish, cruel, smooth-tongued jade!' Hestood as bespoke. She stood too, and stood watching him with herhand on the gong. After a pause of a couple of seconds she saidgravely:'One other thing I should wish to say, and I mean it. Understand meclearly, that I mean it! You must not come again into my groundswithout my special permission. I shall not allow my liberty to betaken away, or restricted, by you. If there be need at any time tocome to the house, come in ceremonious fashion, by the avenues whichare used by others. You can always speak to me in public, orsocially, in the most friendly manner; as I shall hope to be able tospeak to you. But you must never transgress the ordinary rules ofdecorum. If you do, I shall have to take, for my own protection,another course. I know you now! I am willing to blot out the past;but it must be the whole past that is wiped out!'She stood facing him; and as he looked at her clear-cut aquilineface, her steady eyes, her resolute mouth, her carriage, masterly inits self-possessed poise, he saw that there was no further hope forhim. There was no love and no fear.'You devil!' he hissed.She struck the gong; her aunt entered the room.'Oh, is that you, Auntie? Mr. Everard has finished his business withme!' Then to the servant, who had entered after Miss Rowly:'Mr. Everard would like his carriage. By the way,' she added,turning to him in a friendly way as an afterthought, 'will you notstay, Mr. Everard, and take lunch with us? My aunt has been rathermoping lately; I am sure your presence would cheer her up.''Yes, do stay, Mr. Everard!' added Miss Rowly placidly. 'It wouldmake a pleasant hour for us all.'Leonard, with a great effort, said with conventional politeness:'Thanks, awfully! But I promised my father to be home for lunch!'and he withdrew to the door which the servant held open.He went out filled with anger and despair, and, sad for him, with afierce, overmastering desire--love he called it--for the clever,proud, imperious beauty who had so outmatched and crushed him.That beautiful red head, which he had at first so despised, washenceforth to blaze in his dreams.