"It is very good, I think," replied Miriam. "And what do you think of doing?"
"Blessed if I know." He spoke fretfully and with discontent. "The thing is, what am I fit for?"
"What are you fit for?—what any man worthy of the name is fit for—work—hard work. Do you remember how I always told you it would be your salvation. Well, now it has come—no longer is it a matter of choice with you, but one of necessity. Will you be angry with me if I say that I am glad it is all over between Hilda Marsh and you? She was not the woman for you. She was not fit to be any poor man's wife. You have everything before you now. In robbing you of what you had come to think of as your inheritance, Providence befriended you—not the opposite. Your uncle's money would have been your ruin, Gerald." His face brightened at the sound of his name on her lips. "Yes, you know it would. You know how weak you are, how you love pleasure, self-indulgence—how already you have indulged your love of it far too much. Oh, do try now, I beg of you. Let me help you if I can. I will do anything if it will help to put you on your feet again. Who is there you can go and see? Tell me you will try."
She had risen from her seat and was standing by his side. He looked so dull, so heavy-eyed, so despairing.
"Gerald, this chance is thrown right in your way. Don't neglect it."
"You put new life in me, Miriam—and indeed I have tried. I have vowed that I would overcome my weakness. And when I am with you I feel as if I really could. But somehow, when I am alone, the feeling goes, and I can't go on. You know I am not religious, but I tell you I have prayed for help to do what you would have me do. But it hasn't come to me. Life is too much for me alone. If I had you to help me——"
"I will help you!"
"Oh, Miriam, if only you would—if I could think that I should have you by me, that you would not leave me, I believe I could succeed, Miriam." He looked at her, and took her hand and grasped it hard. "I know I am a wreck compared to what I was, that I am weak, and poor, and helpless. You know how I am handicapped. But I feel that with you—if you would take me—life would all be different. I could work for you. With you I should feel safe, without you I am doomed. Will you take pity on me?—will you marry me, Miriam?"
She looked at him and smiled so sadly.
"I will help you, Gerald. I will stay beside you—always. Your life shall be my life—but not because I pity you, Gerald—because I love you!"