That evening Marie did not leave her room. She did not come down to
dinner, Judith O'Connor took her up some food, which Marie scarcely
touched. She was not in bad spirits; she was not in bad humour. She
was at a loss--at a dead standstill. She could see nothing in the
future, nothing farther back in the past than the events of that
day--the things he had said to her in that memorable walk round the
square.
What had been the meaning of his words? There was no harder riddle to
read on all the earth. He loved her still, and thought her good enough
for him, though she knew she was not. She had given him every faculty
of her heart and soul; she could take none of those back from him; the
spaces they had held were now occupied by love, and when love came to
abide with her, all her possessions had left her as though she had
died.
Now he was asking her to give him time to let him try himself still
further before he asked her to carry out the promise she had given him
of becoming his wife; nay, more than that, he had asked her to
withdraw for the present that promise.
Why?
Because of some scruple which had arisen in his mind with regard to
what took place in St Paul's at their betrothal. Why should religious
scruples separate people who loved one another? People of different
religions married, and were happy. She had heard of an English lady
who married a Mahometan, and having been twenty years his wife,
declined to come back to her people. No doubt pious people were
greatly shocked at a Christian woman marrying a Mahometan; but men and
women of different Christian sects married, and no one made an outcry.
Why should religion make any difference between two people who loved
and were loyal?
George--this noble George, her George--was too conscientious. He had
got some ridiculous notion into his head. He loved her still; she
could see that in all he did and said. He loved her as warmly as ever.
She was essential to his happiness; but some over-scrupulous notion
had affrighted him; and made him think that he was unworthy of her. He
unworthy of her!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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