“Poor child!” said he, as he kissed her burning forehead; “I was the cause of all this. Yes, Lizzy, I know it, but I had been staving off this hour for many and many a year. I felt in my heart that you were the only one in all the world who could console or cheer me, and yet I was satisfied to forego it all—to deny myself what I yearned after—just to spare you.”
The words came with a slow and faltering utterance from him, and his lips quivered when he had done speaking.
“I 'm not quite sure the plan was a good one,” said she, in a low voice.
“Nor am I now,” said he, sternly; “but I did it for the best.”
She heaved a heavy sigh, and was silent.
“Mayhap I thought, too,” said he, after a pause, “that when you looked back at all the sacrifices I had made for you, how I toiled and labored,—not as other men toil and labor, for my handicraft was always exercised with a convict ship in the offing—There, you needn't shudder now; I 'm here beside you safe. Well, I thought you 'd say, 'After all, he gave me every advantage in his power. If he could n't bestow on me station and riches, he made me equal to their enjoyment if they ever befell me. He didn't bring me down to his own level, nor to feel the heartburnings of his own daily life, but he made me, in thought and feeling, as good as any lady in the land.'”
“And for what—to what end?” said she, wildly.
“That you might be such, one day, girl,” said he, passionately. “Do you think I have not known every hour, for the last thirty-odd years, what I might have been, had I been trained, and schooled, and taught the things that others know? Have I not felt that I had pluck, daring, energy, and persistence that only wanted knowledge to beat them all, and leave them nowhere? Have I not said to myself, 'She has every one of these, and she has good looks to boot; and why shouldn't she go in and carry away the cup?' And do you think, when I said that, that I was n't striking a docket of bankruptcy against my own heart forever? for to make you great was to make me childless!”
Lizzy covered her face with her hands, but never uttered a word.
“I did n't need any one to tell me,” resumed he, fiercely, “that training you up in luxury and refinement was n't the way to make you satisfied with poverty, or proud of such a father as myself. I knew deuced well what I was preparing for myself there. 'But no matter,' I said, 'come what will, she shall have a fair start of it. Show me the fellow will try a balk,—show me the man will cross the course while she's running.'”