“Bless you for that! it is so long since I have had any one to care for me, that I forget my duty to you. I am tired of all this froth and folly; I will stay at home hereafter; that will be safest, if not happiest.”
He began impetuously, but his voice fell, and was almost inaudible at the last word, as he turned away to hide the expression of regret which he could not disguise. But Gladys heard and saw, and the vague fear which sometimes haunted her stirred again, and took form in the bitter thought, “Home is not happy: am I the cause?”
She put it from her instantly, as if doubt were dishonor, and spoke out in the cordial tone which always cheered and soothed him,—
“It shall be both, if I can make it so. Let me try, and perhaps I can do for you what Mr. Helwyze says I have done for him,—caused him to forget his troubles, and be glad he is alive.”
Canaris swung round with a peculiar expression on his face.
“He says that, does he? Then he is satisfied with his bargain! I thought as much, though he never condescended to confess it to me.”
“What bargain, Felix?”
“The pair of us. We were costly, but he got us, as he gets every thing he sets his heart upon. He was growing tired of me; but when I would have gone, he kept me, by making it possible for me to win you for myself—and him. Six months between us have shown you this, I know, and it is in vain to hide from you how much I long to break away and be free again—if I ever can.”
He looked ready to break away at once, and Gladys sympathized with him, seeing now the cause of his unrest.
“I know the feeling, for I too am tired of this life; not because it is so quiet, but so divided. I want to live for you alone, no matter how poor and humble my place may be. Now I am so little with you, I sometimes feel as if I should grow less and less to you, till I am nothing but a burden and a stumbling-block. Can we not go, and be happy somewhere else? must we stay here all our lives?” she asked, confessing the desire which had been strengthening rapidly of late.