A few hours later Clementina was standing before the window of the
drawing-room that overlooked the outskirts of the town. The moonlight
was flooding the vast bluish Tasajara levels with a faint lustre, as if
the waters of the creek had once more returned to them. In the shadow of
the curtain beside her Grant was facing her with anxious eyes.
"Then I must take this as your final answer, Clementina?"
"You must. And had I known of these calumnies before, had you been frank
with me even the day we went to San Mateo, my answer would have been as
final then, and you might have been spared any further suspense. I am
not blaming you, Mr. Grant; I am willing to believe that you thought
it best to conceal this from me,--even at that time when you had just
pledged yourself to find out its truth or falsehood,--yet my answer
would have been the same. So long as this stain rests on my father's
name I shall never allow that name to be coupled with yours in marriage
or engagement; nor will my pride or yours allow us to carry on a simple
friendship after this. I thank you for your offer of assistance, but
I cannot even accept that which might to others seem to allow some
contingent claim. I would rather believe that when you proposed this
inquiry and my father permitted it, you both knew that it put an end to
any other relations between us."
"But, Clementina, you are wrong, believe me! Say that I have been
foolish, indiscreet, mad,--still the few who knew that I made these
inquiries on your father's behalf know nothing of my hopes of YOU!"
"But I do, and that is enough for me.
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