'Why not, Jessie?' I asked, with a sinking heart.
'Because I don't want to be made more unhappy than I am already. Besides, you must devote your attention more to your work, and less to me. I am not the most important thing in the world to you.'
'You are,' I said gloomily; 'how often have I told you so! You don't believe what I have said, then!' I turned from her in sorrowful passion.
'Chris, Chris,' she said, 'I am not, I must not be, your only consideration. You have other duties before you, and you must not forget them or neglect them, as you have hitherto done.'
I thought she referred to my work, and I answered that I did not neglect it, and that I could perform great things if she were kinder to me.
'Am I not kind to you?' she exclaimed. 'Is it my fault that you are so wrapt up in your own feelings that you are regardless of the feelings of others? If you are blind, I am not. If you are selfish, I am not. If you forget your duty, I shall not forget mine.'
These were the unkindest words she had ever spoken to me, and they were a terrible torture to me.
'Do I show myself to be blind and selfish,' I said, 'and do I forget my duty in loving you as you know I love you, and in wishing to be where you are?' She did not reply. 'But perhaps,' I added bitterly, 'you have another reason for not wishing me to come to the Wests' to-night.'
'What other reason?' she asked quietly.
'Perhaps Mr. Glover is to be there;' and the next moment I would have made any sacrifice to have recalled what I had said. But it was too late. How often do we plunge daggers into our hearts by inconsiderate words, rashly spoken, as these were!