"Yes," he said, with all the fascination of his evangelical voice and
manner, "you are a noble creature! A woman who can speak the truth, for
the truth's own sake--a woman who will sacrifice her pride, rather than
sacrifice an honest man who loves her--is the most priceless of all
treasures. When such a woman marries, if her husband only wins her
esteem and regard, he wins enough to ennoble his whole life. You have
spoken, dearest, of your place in my estimation. Judge what that place
is--when I implore you on my knees, to let the cure of your poor wounded
heart be my care. Rachel! will you honour me, will you bless me, by
being my wife?"
By this time I should certainly have decided on stopping my ears, if
Rachel had not encouraged me to keep them open, by answering him in the
first sensible words I had ever heard fall from her lips.
"Godfrey!" she said, "you must be mad!"
"I never spoke more reasonably, dearest--in your interests, as well
as in mine. Look for a moment to the future. Is your happiness to be
sacrificed to a man who has never known how you feel towards him,
and whom you are resolved never to see again? Is it not your duty to
yourself to forget this ill-fated attachment? and is forgetfulness to be
found in the life you are leading now? You have tried that life, and you
are wearying of it already. Surround yourself with nobler interests than
the wretched interests of the world. A heart that loves and honours you;
a home whose peaceful claims and happy duties win gently on you day by
day--try the consolation, Rachel, which is to be found THERE! I don't
ask for your love--I will be content with your affection and regard. Let
the rest be left, confidently left, to your husband's devotion, and to
Time that heals even wounds as deep as yours."
She began to yield already. Oh, what a bringing-up she must have had!
Oh, how differently I should have acted in her place!
"Don't tempt me, Godfrey," she said; "I am wretched enough and reckless
enough as it is. Don't tempt me to be more wretched and more wreckless
still!"
"One question, Rachel. Have you any personal objection to me?"
"I! I always liked you. After what you have just said to me, I should be
insensible indeed if I didn't respect and admire you as well."
"Do you know many wives, my dear Rachel, who respect and admire their
husbands? And yet they and their husbands get on very well. How many
brides go to the altar with hearts that would bear inspection by the men
who take them there? And yet it doesn't end unhappily--somehow or other
the nuptial establishment jogs on. The truth is, that women try marriage
as a Refuge, far more numerously than they are willing to admit; and,
what is more, they find that marriage has justified their confidence
in it. Look at your own case once again. At your age, and with your
attractions, is it possible for you to sentence yourself to a single
life? Trust my knowledge of the world--nothing is less possible. It
is merely a question of time. You may marry some other man, some years
hence. Or you may marry the man, dearest, who is now at your feet, and
who prizes your respect and admiration above the love of any other woman
on the face of the earth."