"He said no.
""You are not going to do her the injustice to go and _not_ speak to her?"
""Why should I tell her?" he said.
""There might be several answers given to that," I said; "but the best one at present seems to be, why should you _not?_"
""For several reasons," he said. "In the first place I do not know at all whether Miss Powle has that degree of love to Christ that she would be willing to forsake all her earthly prospects--home and friends--for hard work in his service. In the second place, even if she have that, I have not the slightest reason to believe that she--that she cares enough for me to go with me at my asking."
""And do you mean to go in ignorance?" I said.
""Yes--I must."
"I waited a little, and then I told him I thought he was wrong.
""Why?" he asked quickly.
""People cannot see each other"s hearts," I said. "Suppose that she have the same secret feeling towards you that you have towards her. She cannot speak; you will not; and so both would be unhappy for nothing.
""I never saw the least thing like it," he said.
""I suppose she might say the same of you--might she not?"
""Yes and with truth; for knowing the uncertainties--or rather the certainties--of my position, I have not given her the least cause."
""You could hardly expect demonstrations from her in that case," I said.
""There is no chance, Mrs. Caxton, even if it were according to your supposition. Her friends would never permit her to marry a man with my lot in life;--and I do not know that I ought to ask her, even if they would. She has a very fair prospect for this world"s happiness."
""What do you think of your own lot in life?" I asked him.
""I would not exchange it, you know," he said, "for any other the world could offer me. It is brighter and better."
""It strikes me you are selfish,--" I told him.
"He laughed a little, for the first time; but he grew as grave as possible immediately after.
""I have not meant to be selfish," he said; "But I could not take a woman to Fiji, who had not thoroughly considered the matter and counted the cost. That could not be done in a little while. The world has a fair chance now to see if it can weaken Miss Powle"s principles or overcome her faithfulness to them. It is better that she should try herself perhaps, before having such a question asked of her."
""And suppose she comes clear out of the trial?" I said.
""Then I shall be in Fiji."
"We were both silent a while. He began then.
""Mrs. Caxton, without invading any confidences or seeking to know anything that should not be known,--may I ask you a question?"
""Certainly," I said. "I reserve the discretion of answering."
""Of course. Your words look like a rebuke of the att.i.tude I have taken towards this subject. Is it proper for me to ask, whether you have any foundation for them beyond your general knowledge of human nature and your good will towards me? I mean--whether you, as a friend, see any ground of hope for me?"
""If you were going to stay in England," I said, "I would answer no such question. Every man must make his own observations and run his own risk. But these circ.u.mstances are different. And appealed to as a friend--and answering on my own observations simply--I should say, that I think your case not hopeless."
"I could see the colour rise in his cheek; but he sat quite still and did not speak, till it faded again.
""I have never heard a word on the subject," I told him. "I do not say I am certain of anything. I may mistake. Only, seeing you are going to the other end of the world, without the chance of finding out anything for yourself, I think it fair to tell you what, as a woman, I should judge of the case."
""Why do you tell me?" he said quickly.
""I am but answering your question. You must judge whether the answer is worth anything."
"He half laughed again, at himself; at least I could see the beginning of a smile; but he was too terribly in earnest to be anything but serious. He sat silent; got up and fidgetted round the room; then came and stood by the chimney piece looking down at me.
""Mrs. Caxton," he said, "I am going to venture to ask something from you--to fulfil a contingent commission. When I am gone, if Miss Powle returns to you, or when you have otherwise opportunity,--will you, if you can, find out the truth of her feeling on these subjects, which I have failed to find out? You tempt me beyond my power of self-abnegation."
""What shall I do with the truth, if I find it, Mr. Rhys?"
""In that case," he said,--"if it is as you suppose it possible it may be, though I dare not and do not hope it;--if it be so, then you may tell her all I have confessed to you to-night."
""Why?"
""You are uncommonly practical to-night," he said. "I could have but one motive in discovering it to her."
""To ask her to follow you to Fiji?"
""I dare not put it in words. I do not believe the chance will ever come. But I am unable to go and leave the chance changed into an impossibility."
""We are talking of what _may_ be," I said. "But you do not suppose that she could follow you on my report of your words alone?"
""I shall be too far off to speak them myself."
""You can write then," I said.
""Do you remember what the distances are, and the intervals of time that must pa.s.s between letter and letter? When should I write?"
""Now--this evening. I am not thinking of such courtship as took place in the antediluvian days."
""I cannot write on such an utter uncertainty. I have not hope enough; although I cannot bear to leave the country without enlisting you to act for me."
""I shall reconsider the question of acting," I said, "if I have no credentials to produce. I cannot undertake to tell anything to Eleanor merely to give her pleasure--or merely to give her pain."
""Would you have me write to her here--now?" he asked.
""Yes, I would," I told him.
"He sat pondering the matter a little while, making up the fire as you did this morning--only with a very different face; and then with a half laugh he said I was making a fool of him, and he went off. I sat still--and in a few minutes he came down and handed me that note for you."
Eleanor"s cheeks would have rivalled the scarlet Lobelia or Indian Mallow, or anything else that is brilliant. She kept profound silence.