'I don't think I could give up my freedom, Alfred; I've thought it all
over. I'm afraid I'm not the wife for you.'
'Some one else has come between us? Some one richer. Who's this other
fellow?'
'No; there's no one else. I assure you there's no one else. I don't
think I shall marry at all. There are other things besides
marriage.... I'm not fitted for marriage. I'm not strong. I don't
think I could have children. It would kill me.'
'All this is the result of Mrs. Fargus. I can read her ideas in every
word you say. Women like Mrs. Fargus ought to be ducked in the horse-
pond. They're a curse.'
Mildred smiled.
'You're as strong as other girls. I never heard of anything being the
matter with you. You're rather thin, that's all. You ought to go away
for a change of air. I never heard such things; a young girl who has
been brought up like you. I don't know what Harold would say--not
fitted for marriage; not strong enough to bear children. What
conversations you must have had with Mrs. Fargus; studying art, and
the rest of it. Really, Mildred, I did not think a young girl ever
thought of such things.'
'We cannot discuss the subject. We had better let it drop.'
'Yes,' he said, 'we'd better say no more; the least said the soonest
mended. You're ill, you don't know what you're saying. You're not
looking well; you've been brooding over things. You'd better go away
for a change. When you come back you'll think differently.'
'Go away for a change! Yes,' she said, 'I've been thinking over things
and am not feeling well. But I know my own mind now. I can never love
you as I should like to.'
'Then you'd like to love me. Ah, I will make you love me.. I'll teach
you to love me! Only give me the chance.'
'I don't think I shall ever love--at least, not as other girls do.'
He leaned forward and took her hand; he caught her other hand, and the
movement expressed his belief in his power to make her love him.
'No,' she said, resisting him. 'You cannot. I'm as cold as ice.'
'Think what you're doing, Mildred. You're sacrificing a great love--
(no man will ever love you as I do)--and for a lot of stuff about
education that Mrs. Fargus has filled your head with. You're
sacrificing your life for that,' he said, pointing to the sketch that
had fallen on the grass. 'Is it worth it?'
She picked up the sketch.
'It was better before you came,' she said, examining it absent-
mindedly. 'I went on working at it; I've spoiled it.' Then, noticing
the incongruity, she added, 'But it doesn't matter. Art is not the
only thing in the world. There is good to be done if one only knew how
to do it. I don't mean charity, such goodness is only on the surface,
it is merely a short cut to the real true goodness. Art may be only
selfishness, indeed I'm inclined to think it is, but art is education,
not the best, perhaps, but the best within my reach.'
'Mildred, I really do not understand. You cannot be well, or you
wouldn't talk so.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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