t have come to you?"
"You should not have stayed when you found that I had promised myself
to another."
"Is there nothing else that I may wish to say to you?"
"There is nothing else that you should wish to say to the wife of
another man."
"You are not his wife,--not yet."
"I shall be his wife, Mr Gordon. You may be sure of that. And I
think--think I can say of myself that I shall be a true wife. He
has chosen to take me; and as he has so chosen, his wishes must be
respected. He has asked you to remain here as a friend, understanding
that to be the case. But as you do not choose, you should go."
"Do you wish me to stay, and to see you become his wife?"
"I say nothing of that. It is not for me to insist on my wishes. I
have expressed one wish, and you have refused to grant it. Nothing
can pass between you and me which must not, I should say, be painful
to both of us."
"You would have me go then,--so that you should never hear of or see
me again?"
"I shall never see you, I suppose. What good would come of seeing
you?"
"And you can bear to part with me after this fashion?"
"It has to be borne. The world is full of hard things, which have to
be borne. It is not made to run smoothly altogether, either for you
or for me. You must bear your cross,--and so must I."
"And that is the only word I am to receive, after having struggled
so hard for you, and having left all my work, and all my cares, and
all my property, in order that I might come home, and catch just one
glance of your eye. Can you not say a word to me, a word of kindness,
that I may carry back with me?"
"Not a word. If you will think of it, you ought not to ask me for a
word of kindness. What does a kind word mean--a kind word coming from
me to you? There was a time when I wanted a kind word, but I did not
ask for it. At the time it did not suit. Nor does it suit now. Put
yourself in Mr Whittlestaff's case; would you wish the girl to whom
you were engaged to say kind words behind your back to some other
man? If you heard them, would you not think that she was a traitor?
He has chosen to trust me,--against my advice, indeed; but he has
trusted me, and I know myself to be trustworthy. There shall be no
kind word spoken."
"Mary," said he, "when did all this happen?"
"It has been happening, I suppose, from the first day that I came
into his house."
"But when was it settled? When did he ask you to be his wife? Or
when, rather, did yo
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