Arthur’s voice: “No, Ruth. Shall I let the happiness of this hour be marred for you and me, by your thinking and speaking of what would pain you? Besides, I prefer that you should keep this—this thing—this secret—as an evidence of my unwavering confidence in you. Why should we trouble ourselves about the past at all, when the present is at hand, and the future is waiting for us? You and I—we have only just been born. The past is dead. Our life dates from this moment. Oh, it is to the future that we must look!”
“But it seems as though you ought to know—ought to know your wife—ought to know who she is, and what she has done.”
“But I do know her. I do know who she is and what she has done. I know it all by instinct. I want her to have this constant proof of my love—that I can trust her without, learning her secrets.”
“But you will not forget—never forget—that I have offered to tell you, will you? You will remember that I am always willing to tell you—that whenever you wish to know it, you will only have to ask me.”
“Yes, I will remember it; and it will make me happy to remember it. But if you wish to tell me something now that I should like to hear, tell me on what day we shall be married?”
“Oh, it is too soon to fix that—we can wait about fixing that.”
“No, no. It must be fixed before I take leave of you to-day. Every thing must be finally settled. When?”
“Whenever you wish.”
“To-morrow.”
“Of course I did not mean that.”