He returned her embrace ardently, and gazed into her eyes with profound tenderness.
‘Doesn’t the future brighten?’
‘It has been very bright to me, Jasper, since I became your wife.’
‘And I owe my fortune to you, dear girl. Now the way is smooth!’
They placed themselves on a settee, Jasper with an arm about his wife’s waist, as if they were newly plighted lovers. When they had talked for a long time, Milvain said in a changed tone:
‘I am told that your uncle is dead.’
He mentioned how the news had reached him.
‘I must make inquiries tomorrow. I suppose there will be a notice in The Study and some of the other papers. I hope somebody will make it an opportunity to have a hit at that ruffian Fadge. By-the-by, it doesn’t much matter now how you speak of Fadge; but I was a trifle anxious when I heard your story at dinner.’
‘Oh, you can afford to be more independent.—What are you thinking about?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Why do you look sad?—Yes, I know, I know. I’ll try to forgive you.’
‘I can’t help thinking at times of the poor girl, Amy. Life will be easier for her now, with only her mother to support. Someone spoke of her this evening, and repeated Fadge’s lie that she used to do all her father’s writing.’
‘She was capable of doing it. I must seem to you rather a poor-brained woman in comparison. Isn’t it true?’
‘My dearest, you are a perfect woman, and poor Marian was only a clever schoolgirl. Do you know, I never could help imagining that she had ink-stains on her fingers. Heaven forbid that I should say it unkindly! It was touching to me at the time, for I knew how fearfully hard she worked.’
‘She nearly ruined your life; remember that.’
Jasper was silent.
‘You will never confess it, and that is a fault in you.’
‘She loved me, Amy.’
‘Perhaps! as a schoolgirl loves. But you never loved her.’
‘No.’
Amy examined his face as he spoke.
‘Her image is very faint before me,’ Jasper pursued, ‘and soon I shall scarcely be able to recall it. Yes, you are right; she nearly ruined me. And in more senses than one. Poverty and struggle, under such circumstances, would have made me a detestable creature. As it is, I am not such a bad fellow, Amy.’
She laughed, and caressed his cheek.
‘No, I am far from a bad fellow. I feel kindly to everyone who deserves it. I like to be generous, in word and deed. Trust me, there’s many a man who would like to be generous, but is made despicably mean by necessity. What a true sentence that is of Landor’s: “It has been repeated often enough that vice leads to misery; will no man declare that misery leads to vice?” I have much of the weakness that might become viciousness, but I am now far from the possibility of being vicious. Of course there are men, like Fadge, who seem only to grow meaner the more prosperous they are; but these are exceptions. Happiness is the nurse of virtue.’
‘And independence the root of happiness.’
‘True. “The glorious privilege of being independent”—yes, Burns understood the matter. Go to the piano, dear, and play me something. If I don’t mind, I shall fall into Whelpdale’s vein, and talk about my “blessedness”. Ha! isn’t the world a glorious place?’
‘For rich people.’
‘Yes, for rich people. How I pity the poor devils!—Play anything. Better still if you will sing, my nightingale!’
So Amy first played and then sang, and Jasper lay back in dreamy bliss.
