Part 41 (1/2)
”I don't put you in any position whatever. The circ.u.mstances are not of my making. They are as much beyond my control as they are beyond yours.”
”They're not wholly beyond mine. If there are some things I can't do, there are some I can prevent.”
”What things?”
His tone alarmed her, and she struggled to her feet.
”You're willing to make me a great sacrifice; but at least I can refuse to accept it.”
”What do you mean?” She moved slightly back from him, behind the protection of one of the tables piled breast-high with its white load.
”You're willing to lose for me the last vestige of your good name--”
”I don't care anything about that,” she said, hurriedly.
”But I do. I won't let you.”
”How can you stop me?” she asked, staring at him with large, frightened eyes.
”I shall tell Dorothea's part in the story.”
”You'd--?” she began, with a questioning cry.
”All who care to hear it, shall. They shall know it from its beginning to its end. They shall lose no detail of her folly or of your wisdom.”
”You would sacrifice your child like that?”
”Yes, like that. Neither she nor I can remain so indebted to any one, as you would have us be to you.”
”You--wouldn't--be--indebted--to--me?”
”Not to so terrible an extent. If it's a choice between your good name and hers--hers must go. She'd agree with me herself. She wouldn't hesitate for one single fraction of an instant--if she knew. She'd be grateful to you, as I am; but she couldn't profit by your magnanimity.”
”So that the alternative you offer me is this: I can protect myself by sacrificing Dorothea, or I can marry you, and Dorothea will be saved.”
”I shouldn't express it in just those words, but it's something like it.”
”Then I'll marry you. You give me a choice of evils, and I take the least.”
”Oh! Then to marry me would be--an evil?”
”What else do you make it? You'll admit that it's a little difficult to keep pace with you. You come to me one day accusing me of sin, and on another announcing my contrition, while on the third you may be in some entirely different mood about me.”
”You can easily render me ridiculous. That's due to my awkwardness of expression and not to anything wrong in the way I feel.”
”Oh, but isn't it out of the heart that the mouth speaketh? I think so.
You've advanced some excellent reasons why I should become your wife, and I can see that you're quite capable of believing them. At one time it was because I needed a home, at another because I needed protection, while to-day, I understand, it is because I love you.”
”Is this fair?”
”I dare say you think it isn't; but then you haven't been tried and judged half a dozen times, unheard, as I've been. I'll confess that you've shown the most wonderful ingenuity in trying to get me into a position where I should be obliged to marry you, whether I would or not; and now you've succeeded. Whether the game is worth the candle or not is for you to judge; my part is limited to saying that you've won. I'm ready to marry you as soon as you tell me when.”