Book 1 The Land of the Midnight Sun Chapter 13

"I can't help it, Phil!" he said. "It's no use fretting and fuming at me. It was like Dyceworthy's impudence, of course,--but there's no doubt he proposed to her,--and it's equally certain that she rejected him. I thought I'd tell you you had a rival,--not in me, as you seemed to think yesterday,--but in our holy fat friend."

"Rival! pshaw!" returned Errington, with an angry laugh. "He is not worth kicking!"

"Possibly not! Still I have a presentiment that he's the sort of fellow that won't take 'no' for an answer. He'll dodge that poor girl and make her life miserable if he can, unless--"

"Unless what?" asked Philip quickly.

Lorimer stopped in his walk, and, leaning against the deck-railings, looked his friend straight in the eyes.

"Unless you settle the matter," he said with a slight effort. "You love her,--tell her so!"

Errington laid one hand earnestly on his shoulder.

"Ah, George, you don't understand!" he said in a low tone, while his face was grave and full of trouble. "I used to think I was fairly brave, but I find I am a positive coward. I dare not tell her! She--Thelma--is not like other women. You may think me a fool,--I dare say you do,--but I swear to you I am afraid to speak, because--because, old boy,--if she were to refuse me,--if I knew there was no hope--well, I don't want to be sentimental,--but my life would be utterly empty and worthless,--so useless, that I doubt if I should care to live it out to the bitter end!"