“Oh, if I might, if I didn’t have to be afraid—is it true! Oh, God bless you, Paula.”
“There is nothing now that need keep us apart any longer,” said she, with her hand in his, “whatever may happen I have the right to be happy once, to live fully in accordance with my being, my desire, and my dreams. I have never renounced. Even though happiness was not my share, I have never believed that life was nothing but grayness and duty. I knew that there are people who are happy.”
Silently he kissed her hand.
“I know,” she said sadly, “that those who will judge me least harshly will not envy me the happiness which I shall have in having your love, but they will also say that I should be satisfied.”
“But that would not be enough for me, and you have not the right to send me away.”
“No,” she said, “no.”
A little later she went upstairs to Elinor.
Elinor slept.
Mrs. Fonss sat down by her bed and looked at her pale child whose features she could only dimly distinguish under the faint yellow glow of the night lamp.
For Elinor’s sake they would have to wait. In a few days they would separate from Thorbrogger, go to Nice, and stay there by themselves. During the winter she would live only that Elinor might regain her health. But to-morrow she would tell the children what had happened and what was to be expected. However they might receive the news it was impossible for her to live with them day in, day out, and yet be almost separated from them by a secret like this. And they would need time to get used to the idea, because it would mean a separation between them, whether greater or smaller would depend on the children themselves. The arrangement of their lives in so far as it concerned her and him was to be left entirely to them. She would demand nothing. It was for them to give.