‘I am going to leave the country, Rhoda. I don’t wish to bring more discredit on my faith and family than I need, so I shall make my home in a new land, and never offend their sight or hearing again. I am penniless, as you know. Every farthing of my fine fortune has gone into the coffers of the Church. I can’t say I don’t regret it, for I do; but I must accept the loss as part of the penalty of not knowing my own mind.’
‘Money does not make all the happiness of this world,’ said Rhoda, softly.
‘No, but a considerable portion of it. However, least said, in this case, soonest mended. Failing it, I must work with my hands for my daily bread, which, perhaps, will be all the better for me. I shall begin low, but shall hope to rise by-and-by. An old chum of mine has lent me sufficient money to take me out of the country and settle me down a bit, and I am going straight to another chum, who has a big ranch out in the Rocky Mountains, and who, I know, will find me some sort of work to do.’
‘But, Fred—’ began Rhoda, eagerly.
‘Wait a minute, my dear. I have something more to say to you. I shall have to go, of course, any way, but you would make me so much happier if you would go with me.’
‘Go with you!’ exclaimed Rhoda, looking up with startled eyes.
‘Yes, as my wife, of course. You didn’t suppose I was brute enough to add an insult to the wrong I have done you.’
‘But, Fred, I am not worthy,’ cried the girl, with crimsoned cheeks.
‘Not worthy! Don’t make me feel a greater villain than I do, by saying such a thing. Rhoda, dear, I never deceived you. You know I never made what is called “love” to you in the old, thoughtless days, which ended so disastrously for you. I didn’t love anybody at that time, unless it was myself and my own selfish pleasures. I adored my poor wife. I am not afraid to say that before you, because you are not like other women. You like a man to speak the truth, not a lot of lies and flattery. But, if ever I loved a woman in my life, you have made me love you. If ever I felt that anyone was absolutely necessary to my existence, I feel that of you. If ever a fellow-creature has been a true, unselfish, trustworthy friend to me, it is you; and I am only speaking the plain truth when I say, if you will come with me to America and share my rough life there, you will make me far happier than I ever expected to be again.’
Rhoda had slipped from her seat and was kneeling by his side, hiding her face upon his hands.