“How useless, then, for us to talk. If you are determined to remind me again and again that your strength puts me at your mercy—”
“Oh, not that! I will come no nearer to you. Sit down, and tell me what I asked.”
Rhoda hesitated, but at length took the chair by which she was standing.
“You are resolved never to marry?”
“I never shall,” Rhoda replied firmly.
“But suppose marriage in no way interfered with your work?”
“It would interfere hopelessly with the best part of my life. I thought you understood this. What would become of the encouragement I am able to offer our girls?”
“Encouragement to refuse marriage?”
“To scorn the old idea that a woman’s life is wasted if she does not marry. My work is to help those women who, by sheer necessity, must live alone—women whom vulgar opinion ridicules. How can I help them so effectually as by living among them, one of them, and showing that my life is anything but weariness and lamentation? I am fitted for this. It gives me a sense of power and usefulness which I enjoy. Your cousin is doing the same work admirably. If I deserted I should despise myself.”
“Magnificent! If I could bear the thought of living without you, I should bid you persevere and be great.”