For one moment the whole world seemed golden with happiness; but it was
only of short duration. The next instant she remembered Josiah and her
given word.
No, happiness was not for her. Death and sleep were all she could hope
for; but she must not even hope for them. She must do what was right,
and be true to herself, advienne que pourra. And perhaps some angel
would give her oblivion or let her drink of Lethe, though she should
never reach those waters beyond the rocks.
He saw the exaltation in her beautiful face as he spoke, and wild joy
seized him. Then he saw the sudden droop of her whole body and the
light die out of her eyes, and in a voice of anguish he implored her: "Darling, darling! Won't you listen to what I say to you? Won't you
answer me, and come with me?"
"No, Hector," she said, and her voice was so low he had to bend closer
to hear.
He clasped her to his side, he covered her face with kisses, murmuring
the tenderest love-words.
She did not resist him or seek to escape from his sheltering, strong
arms. This was the end of her living life, why should she rob herself of
a last joy?
She laid her head on his shoulder, and there she whispered in a voice he
hardly recognized, so dominated it was by sorrow and pain: "It must be
good-bye, beloved; we must not meet. Ah! never any more. I have been
meaning to say this to you all the day. I cannot bear it either. Oh, we
must part, and it must end; but oh, not--not in that way!"
He tried to persuade her, he pleaded with her, drew pictures of their
happiness that surely would be, talked of Italy and eternal summer and
exquisite pleasure and bliss.
And all the time he felt her quiver in his arms and respond to each
thought, as her imagination took fire at the beautiful pictures of love
and joy. But nothing shook her determination.
At last she said: "Dearest, if I were different perhaps, stronger and
braver, I could go away and live with you like that, and keep it all a
glorious thing; but I am not--only a weak creature, and the memory of my
broken word, and Josiah's sorrow, and your mother's anguish, would kill
all joy. We could have blissful moments of forgetfulness, but the great
ghost of remorse would chase for me all happiness away. Dearest, I love
you so; but oh, I could not live, haunted like that; I should
just--die."