"Ah, Constance, it is love of you, I mean—love of you. Oh, yes, I know," I hurried on now. "I know. Have no fear of me. I understand. But it is love of you, Constance, that rules every minute of my life. I couldn't alter that if I tried; and—and I would not alter it if I had to die for it. But—you must forgive me. Tell me you do not want me to stop loving you, Constance. You see, I do not ask any more of you. I understand. But—let me go on loving you, dear heart, because that means everything to me. It has guided me in everything I have done since that day you came to me in The Mass office. Constance, you do not really want me to stop loving you?"
I was facing her now; kneeling to her, in my mind, though not in fact. Her head was bowed toward me. Then she raised her glorious eyes, and gave to me the full tender sweetness of them.
"No, Dick," she said, quite firmly, but soft and low; "I don't want you ever to stop loving me."
Whatever else Fate brings or takes from me, I shall never lose the lovely music of those words. That is mine for ever.
XIV
"FOR GOD, OUR RACE, AND DUTY"
Soldiers, prepare! Our cause is Heaven's cause;
Soldiers, prepare! Be worthy of our cause:
Prepare to meet our fathers in the sky:
Prepare, O troops that are to fall to-day!
Prepare, prepare.
Alfred shall smile, and make his harp rejoice;
The Norman William, and the learned Clerk,
And Lion-Heart, and black-browed Edward, with
His loyal queen shall rise, and welcome us!
Prepare, prepare.
Blake.