He drew near, and, leaning his folded arms on the top of the easel, looked down into her face.
"There is only one condition upon which I could consent to go; that is in your hands. Will you accompany me?"
She understood it all in an instant, saw the new form in which the trial presented itself, and her soul sickened.
"Mr. Clifton, if I were your sister, or your child, I would gladly go; but as your pupil, I cannot."
"As Electra Grey, certainly not; but as Electra Clifton you could go."
"Electra Grey will be carved on my tombstone."
"Then you decide my fate. I remain, and wait the slow approach of death."
"No, before just Heaven! I take no such responsibility, nor shall you thrust it on me. You are a man, and must decide your destiny for yourself; I am a poor girl, having no claim upon, no power over you. It is your duty to preserve the life which God gave you, in the way prescribed by your physician, and I have no voice in the matter. It is your duty to go South, and it will be both weak and wicked to remain here under existing circumstances."
"My life is centred in you; it is worthless, nay, a burden, separated from you."
"Your life should be centred in something nobler, better; in your duty, in your profession. It is suicidal to fold your hands listlessly, and look to me as you do."