When Eric came the next evening, I felt ill at ease, unable to relax around him. I loved him, so much. Yet, I was unable to share it. My white night had revealed so much to me. However, I hoped that perhaps I was wrong about him loving me, that he merely had an interest in me as a friend. In my deepest chamber of my heart, I knew somehow that this was not true, and I was lying to myself. But it would be better than the alternative to me.
I was quite reluctant to go to the orchard when he suggested it. Somehow, I no longer wished to be alone with just him and me. I wished to have my family nearby as a safe place. I felt I needed that shield around me, to guard me from that hurt that I was avoiding. However, I had no true excuse to deny him, so we went. I could not settle down, and was distracted easily, and only half listened to him. I knew I confused Eric by my behaviour, but I could not help it. Nor would I even attempt to explain.
At last, Eric gave it up for tonight, to my relief. I went back to my room slowly, questioning myself if I was doing the right thing. That week was dreadful. Every time I was with Eric, my resolve almost broke down, and my heart burst with the love that I felt for him, and then it would break the next moment for the love I felt for him. Yes, I realized I was thinking in circles, but that is how it was. It was a bewildering time, for I felt there was no one to speak frankly about this situation. And I had always been one to speak directly about whatever I felt. I was very unused to hiding my feelings, and yet, I must hide them! I did not wish to ruin my friendship with Eric, for it was still delightful.
I am afraid I gave him quite a hard time that week. I was aloof with him, and quite distracted. I felt far away from him, almost like my namesake heroine. She had sojourned in the land far away "where the rain never fell and the wind never blew" for seven years. I almost wished I could fly away to that still land like her. I was not afraid of Eric, but of what he would say. And as that week went by, I watched, listened, and pondered.
Even my music suffered. I could not play the same way I always had. It revealed too much of myself, and that would not do. And I would fight against the rising tide of feelings that sought to escape, and the bow was suddenly a clumsy thing in my hand. This irked me to no end, for I had never had this happen to me before, and I felt like a foolish beginner. At this moment, I had a longing for speech more than ever. Had I been able to speak, then I could conceal those feelings even better. But now my silence was dangerous, and could betray me before I was ready to reveal my secret thoughts.
I had just laid my violin down with an irritated frown, for the music did not please me one bit. Eric cocked his head at me and watched my expression, but I looked away from him to the scenery before me. It was a lovely evening in August. Where had the summer gone? But fall had its beauty as well. The wheat fields were becoming golden, the light soft and violet, and the sea played its own music as it crashed in the distance against the rocky shoreline.
I sat there unmoving on the old bench in the orchard, I felt Eric take my hands gently in his. Oh, they were warm and felt so right, but still I could not look at him. In a quiet but fervent voice, Eric finally spoke, "Kilmeny, I wish to speak with you about something that has been on my heart since the first time I saw you. I love you, dear, and I loved you from the first moment I saw you sitting right here on this bench that first evening. I was not looking for love at that time, but sometimes one comes across a person who enters your life seemingly out of nowhere, and just as suddenly means the world to you. You are that person, Kilmeny. You are the finest, tenderest, loveliest, most beautiful person I have ever known, dearest. You are not just beautiful in your features, but your heart is pure and beautiful. I love every part of you, and my heart is full of love. When I listen to my heart, Kilmeny, it whispers your name. And I never want to be parted from you. You are my most precious treasure, and I wish to spend the rest of my life with you." A pause, then a slight quiver of nervousness and happiness, "Kilmeny, will you be my wife?"
I had listened to this profession of love, feeling my face heat up, and now I felt the opposite. I paled with the realization of what had to happen, but I knew I must not interrupt. When he finally proposed, I couldn't do it anymore. I jerked my hands from his suddenly, covered my face, and burst into tears. He loved me, so much! And I was so happy that he did, but so devastated at what must occur. I sobbed into my hands, shaking with the emotions pouring through me.
Understandably, Eric was startled at this reaction, and tried to comfort me by putting an arm around me and pulling me into him as he usually did. He gazed at me and asked with concern, "Kilmeny, dearest, have I alarmed you? Surely you knew before that I loved you. Don't you care for me?"
I immediately pushed him away though, and shook my head at him. But I had to be honest, and took up my slate and quickly wrote, "Yes, I do love you, but I will never marry you, because I cannot speak."
This made Eric relax, and smile broadly at me. "Oh, Kilmeny, that doesn't make any difference to me...you know it doesn't, sweetest. If you love me that is enough."
He didn't understand at all, did he! He was delighted to know that I loved him, and that I had finally said it to him. And he believed the whole matter so very simple. It wasn't! I had to make him understand somehow. This would be very hard. I took my time in answering, for I wanted him to know the finality of my decision. I had thought it all over through my white night, and although it was painful for me, it was the right thing. And there was no changing my mind about that. "No, it is not enough. It would be doing you a great wrong to marry you when I cannot speak, and I will not do it because I love you too much to do anything that would harm you. Your world would think you had done a very foolish thing and it would be right. I have thought it all over many times since something Aunt Janet said made me understand, and I know I am doing right. I am sorry I did not understand sooner, before you had learned to care so much."
But he shook his head in turn, and told me that I had gotten a very absurd fantasy in my head. He didn't understand in the least. Then he asked me if I understood how miserable he would be if I refused him.
I hid the wince at that, but stood firm on my convictions, telling him that perhaps he believed that now, and I knew he would feel bad about the whole thing for a while. But he'd go away and forget all about me, and he would realize that I was right to set him free. I admitted that I would be terribly unhappy, for I did love him, but I could not spoil his life, no, not for my life would I do that. Determinedly, I boldy matched his gaze, willing him not to coax and plead.
The silly boy did it anyway. At first he tried being patient with lots of smiles, just as I was just being a foolish, silly child about it all. I did not waver from my stance and shook my head no. When he realized that I did mean what I said, he became quite vehement about it, but in a desperate manner. Still I said no. Why wouldn't Eric stop? Didn't he know how terribly hard this was on me? I was on the point of feeling very unwell from all this begging, and did not even try to answer him back with my slate. I just listened, heard him out politely, then would shake my head no. Oh, such terrible suffering that I went through, putting up with his coaxing and pleading!
I wanted so much to be his wife, of course I did. But I loved him too much. And this he failed to know. I wanted the best in life for this man, and I would not be that. My love for him was so intense and deep, a well that had no bottom, that I knew that I would be a poor choice of wife for him and his world. I could not belong to it, and he would regret having me. Or else others would give him such trouble over me, that I would forever be guilty of being a hindrance for him. No, I loved him too much to do him this very great wrong. If I could speak, I would marry him in a heartbeat.
At last I had quite enough of him and this ruined friendship. For he couldn't continue to be friends unless he stopped his foolishness in pursuing this useless course. I stood up, shook my head no one more time, then went away to the house, leaving a despairing man behind me. As soon as I got to my room, I collapsed, and cried myself to sleep.
