'
'Only one word--only one promise--now whilst we are the only
ones awake in the house. We are husband and wife, Clara, and we must
be kind to each other. We are not going to be like the poor
creatures who let their misery degrade them. We are both too proud
for that--what? We can think and express our thoughts; we can
speak to each other's minds and hearts. Don't let us be beaten!'
'What's the good of my promising? I can't keep it. I suffer too
much.'
'Promise, and keep the promise for a few weeks, a few days; then
I'll find strength to help you once more. But now it's your turn to
help me. To-morrow begins a new week; the rich world allows us to
rest to-morrow, to be with each other. Shall we make it a quiet,
restful, hopeful day? When they go out in the morning, you shall
read to father and me--read as you know how to, so much better
than I can. What? Was that really a smile?'
'Let me go, Sidney. Oh, I'm tired, I'm tired!'
'And the promise?'
'I'll do my best. It won't last long, but I'll try.'
'Thank you, dear.'
'No,' she replied, despondently. 'It's I that ought to thank you.
But I never shall--never. I only understand you now and then--
just for an hour--and all the selfishness comes back again.
Pages:
709
710
711
712
713
714
715
716
717
718
719
720
721
722
723
724
725
726
727
728
729
730
731
732
733