“Yes, we had a meeting last night, and a long talk this morning; and, indeed, it was about that I wanted to speak to you when I found O'Shea here. Confound the fellow! he has made the thing more difficult than ever, for I have quite forgotten how I had planned it all.”
“Planned it all! Surely there was no need of a plan, Charley, in anything that you meant to say to me?”
“Yes, but there was, though. You have very often piqued me by saying that I never knew my own mind from one day to another, that you were always prepared for some change of intention in me, and that nothing would surprise you less than that I should 'throw you over' the very day before we were to sail for India.”
“Was I very, very unjust, Charley?” said he, kindly.
“I think you were, and for this reason: he who is master of his own fate, so far as personal freedom and ample fortune can make him, ought not to judge rashly of the doubts and vacillations and ever changing purposes of him who has to weigh fifty conflicting influences. The one sufficiently strong to sway others may easily take his line and follow it; the other is the slave of any incident of the hour, and must be content to accept events, and not mould them.”
“I read it all, Charley. You 'll not go out?”
“I will not.”
Agincourt repressed the smile that was fast gathering on his lips, and, in a grave and quiet voice, said, “And why?”
“For the very reason you have so often given me. She cares for me; she has told me so herself, and even asked me not to leave them! I explained to her that I had given you not only a promise, but a pledge, that, unless you released me, I was bound in honor to accompany you. She said, 'Will you leave this part of the matter to me?' and I answered, 'No, I'll go frankly to him, and say, “I'm going to break my word with you: I have to choose between May Leslie and you, and I vote for her.''”
“What a deal of self-sacrifice it might have saved you, Charley,” said he, laughing, “had you seen this telegram which came when I had sat down to breakfast.” It came from the Horse Guards, sent by some private friend of Agincourt' s, and was in these words: “The row is over, no more drafts for India, do not go.”