Chapter XIX

ourwifeisconcerned.” “Well,dear,Ican’tstayarguing.Ishallbelatealready.” “You’renotreallygoing?”IthadbeenimpossibleforBerthatorealisethatEdwardwouldcarryouthisintention. “Imust,mydearit’smyduty.” “Youhavemoredutytomethantoanyoneelse....Oh,Eddie,don’tgo.Youcan’trealiseallitmeanstome.” “Imust.I’mnotgoingbecauseIwantto.Ishallbebackinanhour.” Hebentdowntokissher,andsheflungherarmsroundhisneck,burstingintotears. “Oh,pleasedon’tgo—ifyoulovemeatall,ifyou’veeverlovedme....Don’tyouseethatyou’redestroyingmyloveforyou?” “Now,don’tbesilly,there’sagoodgirl.” Heloosenedherarmsandwalkedawaybutrisingfromthesofashefollowedhimandtookhisarm,beseechinghimtostay. “YouseehowunhappyIamandyouareallIhaveintheworldnow.ForGod’ssake,stay,Eddie.Itmeansmoretomethanyouknow.” Shesanktothefloorshewaskneelingbeforehim. “Come,getontothesofa.Allthisisverybadforyou.” Hecarriedhertothecouch,andthen,tofinishthescene,hurriedlylefttheroom. Berthaspranguptofollowhim,butsankbackasthedoorslammed,andburyingherfaceinherhands,surrenderedherselftoapassionoftears.Buthumiliationandragealmostdroveawayhergrief.Shehadkneltbeforeherhusbandforafavour,andhehadnotgrantedit.Suddenlysheabhorredhim.Thelove,whichhadbeenatowerofbrass,felllikeahouseofcards.Shewouldnottrynowtoconcealfromherselfthefaultsthatstaredherintheface.Hecaredonlyforhimself:withhimitwasonlyself,self,self.Berthafoundabitterfascinationinstrippingheridolofthefinerywithwhichhermadnesshadbedizenedhimshesawhimmoreaccuratelynow,andhewasutterlyselfish.Butmostunbearableofallwasherownextremehumiliation. Therainpoureddown,unceasing,andthedespairofnatureateintohersoul.Atlastshewasexhaustedandlosingthoughtoftime,layhalf-unconscious,feelingatleastnopain,herbrainvacantandweary.WhenaservantcametoaskifMissGlovermightseeher,shehardlyunderstood. “MissGloverdoesn’tusuallystandonsuchceremony,”shesaidill-temperedly,forgettingtheincidentofthepreviousweek.“Askhertocomein.” Theparson’ssistercametothedoorandhesitated,growingredtheexpressioninhereyeswaspained,andevenfrightened. “MayIcomein,Bertha?” “Yes.” Shewalkedstraighttothesofa,andfellonherknees. “Oh,Bertha,pleaseforgiveme.Iwaswrong,andI’vebehavedwickedlytoyou.” “MydearFanny,”murmuredBertha,asmilebreakingthroughhermisery. “IwithdraweverywordIsaidtoyou,BerthaIcan’tunderstandhowIsaidit.Ihumblybegyourforgiveness.” “Thereisnothingtoforgive.” “Oh,yes,thereis.Goodheavens,Iknow!MyconsciencehasbeenreproachingmeeversinceIwashere,butIhardenedmyheart,andwouldnotlisten.” PoorMissGlovercouldnotreallyhavehardenedherheart,howevermuchshetried. “IknewIoughttocometoyouandbegyourforgiveness,bu