Part 52 (1/2)
”Then you will release the Prince from his bond.”
”He does not ask to be released.”
”That may be.”
Then there was silence.
”My dear child,” murmured the Archbishop; there was emotion in his voice, and putting out his hand he laid it upon hers.
She drew herself gently from the contact.
”Only if he wishes it,” she said.
”He will not wish it.”
”Then he has my word.”
”Your life contains other and holier vows than that, my child.”
She did not seem to think so. ”Father,” she said, ”this is the man I love!”
”That I realize,” he replied gravely. ”The question is which do you love best,--him or the Church?”
Jenifer opened her eyes in a limpid and childlike wonderment. How could he ask a question the answer to which was so obvious? ”Why, him!” she cried; ”there is no possible comparison!”
The Archbishop was deeply shocked as well as nonplussed at such an answer coming from his daughter; and meanwhile with clear sincerity of speech she went on--
”You mean the Church of Jingalo--do you not, papa?”
Of course it was the Church of Jingalo that he meant, but it would not do at this juncture to say so. His daughter might be one of those dreadful people who believed that the Church would get value out of disestablishment.
”I meant the Church of our fathers,” said he, ”the faith into which you were baptized,--the spiritual health and welfare of the whole nation.”
”I do not think that by marrying the Prince I shall do it any harm. I am sure that he means none.”
Her idea of the power of Princes struck him as curiously feminine; how little she understood of politics!
”It is rather a case,” said he, ”of harm that you cannot prevent, except in one way. What have you in your mind? Is it the wish to sit upon a throne?”
”Oh, no!” she said; ”I shall never like being queen.” Then, after a pause, she added honestly, ”All the same, I could do things, then--things which I have longed to do; and I know that he would let me.”
Her face glowed at the prospect; and suddenly she turned upon him a full look of self-confidence and courage, and there was challenge in her tone.
”I know far more about the poor than you do, father,” she said, ”and much more of their needs. If I were queen I would have a house down among the slums; and I would never spend Christmas, or Easter, or Good Friday in any other place.” Her voice broke. ”I would try--I would try,”
she said, ”to set up Christianity in high places. That has been my dream.”
”Have you told your dream to the Prince?”
She smiled tenderly, and with confidence. ”He is already helping to make it come true. I asked him to be upon the Commission. That is why he is there.”