"'You are all that counts . . . you know that.'"
There was a long silence. Then Schuyler, speaking very slowly, said: "You'd go away with him, and never see Jock and Hurry again, not be able to go to them when they were sick, not to be at little Hurry's wedding when she grows up and gets married.… For God's sake!"
"Now do you realize that I'm in earnest?" she cried.
Schuyler turned quietly on his heel and left the room. After a while we heard his voice in the distance, mingling joyfully with the voices of Jock and Hurry.
Lucy's face, all tears now, was pressed to my breast.
"You are giving up too much for me, my darling," I said; "I'm not worth it."
"But if you went out of my life I'd die!"
"I won't go out of your life, Lucy. But there are lives and lives. We could meet and be together to gather strength for the times we had to be apart."
At that she had a renewal of crying, and cried for a long time.
"It isn't right for Jock and Hurry to run any risk of losing you," I said, "and love—Lucy—love with renunciation is a wonderful thing, and a strong thing."
"I'm not strong. I don't want to be strong. I just want to give and give and give."
"We could have our own life apart from everybody else—but not a hidden guilty life—a life to be proud of—a life in which you would strengthen me for my other life and I would strengthen you for yours."
She stopped crying all at once and freed herself from my arms. "Then you don't want me?"
"I want you."
She lifted her hands to my shoulders. "Suppose we find that we can't stand a life of love—with renunciation?"
"At least we would have tried to do what seemed to make for the happiness of the most people."
"And you think I ought to live on with John, as—as his wife?"
"No, I couldn't bear that—but as his friend, Lucy, as the mother of Jock and Hurry. Oh, no," I said; "I couldn't bear it, if—if you weren't faithful to me."
"And you would be faithful to me?"
"In thought and deed."
"And we'd just be wonderful friends?"
"Lovers, too, Lucy. We couldn't help that."
And I kissed her on the forehead. And at that moment I felt very noble, and that the way of life which I had proposed was a very fine way of life, and possible of being lived.
"Then," she said, "John mustn't know. He must never know. It will always be our secret. But then Schuyler knows."
"When I tell him what we mean to do, he won't tell."
And the first chance I had I told Schuyler. And finished with, "So don't tell John, will you?"
"I'll see how happy Lucy manages to make him, first," said Schuyler. "But if you think he won't find out all by himself, you're mistaken. It's a rotten business all around."
And he looked at me with a kind of comical amazement. "Think of Lucy carin' more for you than for Jock and Hurry!" he exclaimed. "I suppose you regale her from time to time with episodes from your past life?… Well, if I didn't think you'd both get tired of each other before long, I'd feel worse. One thing, though, if I promise you that I won't give you away to John, will you promise me for yourself and for Lucy that you won't take any serious step, without telling me first, and giving me a chance to try to dissuade you?"
"As there is to be no question of a serious step," I said, "I promise."