"I prayed I might be guided to do what was right, and not be influenced by any selfish motive to gain my own happiness. I do not wish to be selfish."
"Clarissa, let your heart speak, for our future happiness depends upon your answer. Is my love and presence capable of bringing you any joy? Am I ever necessary to you?"
"Always, William—always. I was never truly happy when you were absent. Even when Augustus came, I wanted you to share my joy. I have been so lonely and miserable. You will not leave me again, will you? I am sick;—a weak and feeble woman."
"I never left you, Clarissa; you know that. You left me. I have been thinking it over. I do not doubt my love was often obtrusive and selfish, but I never meant it to be so. Let me now give you the benefit of my riper judgment. All I ask is to see you and to know you are present in my home, which has been so desolate without you. I promise you, I will not obtrude myself upon you unless you ask me to do so. I was selfish, but you know it was only my jealousy that got the better of me. When such tempests come, I have not the power to resist; do not heed my looks nor words, for they are not true to the real man, but come to me, and place your arms around me as you have them now. The touch will restore to me my lost senses. I do not doubt your honesty, Clarissa, but at times, there sweeps over my soul such a wave of power I cannot resist it, depriving me even of my reason. If any man were to come to me and even hint that I should doubt you, I should resent it as a gross insult. I do trust you, still, I do not. You cannot understand me; I do not really understand myself. Just have patience. Help me to overcome this monster. Really, I only doubt my power to please and satisfy you, and I wish to be dearer to you than all else in life. Will you not help me to conquer this Demon who rules and governs me, and renders me insane for the time? The touch of your arms and lips will always dispel him if you will but have patience with me. Try to realize how I love you. Tell me, dearest, why were you sobbing when I came?"
"I am afraid to."
"If you have one spark of love for me in your soul, never think—much less say that you are afraid to tell me anything. Whatever is to be told, tell me, and let us work out the problem together. I have thought over carefully all you said to me in our last interview, and acknowledge I have often been selfish and exacting, still you were wrong, for God is love, and love has the power to sanction the union of the sexes. My soul was wedded to yours; we were married in the highest sense of the word. I may have made exorbitant demands upon you and your patience then, but, Clarissa, your love will give you patience to restrain my selfishness, and hold me where I ought to be. Whatever I say,—whatever I do, only come and put your arms around me as they are now, and you will find, instead of a dictator, you will have a slave."
"I believe you, William. The assurance of your love makes me the happiest woman upon earth, but what am I to do with Augustus? I cannot help feeling I am responsible for his infirmity; therefore, I ought gladly and willingly to sacrifice every desire of my heart to be with him, doing what he wants me to do. I do not want to be selfish, William, am I not so when I find my only happiness in your presence and your love?"
"No, dear; love—real love—cannot be selfish."
"You ask me one thing, he asks me another totally different. Each says if I love him, I will do as he wishes; I love you both, and I want to go to your home, William, I am tired of struggling alone. I want your care and love, but Augustus wants to go elsewhere, and thinks if I do not do as he wishes I do not love him. When I see his helplessness, I feel that I am to blame for it, and ought to do whatever he asks me. I cannot please you both. I cannot do what both want. I love you both far dearer than myself; what shall I do? Can you not help me, William? Am I selfish when I long to put my trust in you,—to have you think for me? Tell me what to do. I want to do for Augustus all that a mother could do, but my soul hungers for you and your love."
"Clarissa, how can the love of man and wife be selfish? Augustus is our child—I would gladly offer my life for him, but he can never be to me what you are; I may be wrong, but it seems to me the love of husband and wife is the strongest that can be expressed. Can a child's love for its mother outbalance her husband's? Not if she loves her husband. As I understand the Infinite law, man and woman blend their loves to make a complete whole, while a child leaves its parents to unite itself with its opposite. A mother's love may be strong and powerful, but I believe the true love of husband or wife outweighs in power that of a mother, or even of a child. Tell me truly;—which love satisfies you better—a child's or a husband's?"