‘I will retract. I will say anything you please. No, not better; only happier. You would make me the most blessed of men; and what can you do for the poor? So little; everybody says, so little! But for me there would be no limit to what you could do. I have the most need of conversion. Ah! let your mission be me!’
Agnes started and came to herself. She looked round her, alarmed and scared, when she knew, yet only half knew, that she had left the direct road. ‘I have taken the wrong turn,’ she said, with confusion. ‘Mr. Meredith, let us forget that we have ever met. How could I turn back, having just put my hand to the plough? Oh, it is very weak and wicked of me, but I do not want the Sister to see you. She will think—but you have been kind, and I will say good-by here.’
‘Do you want to say good-by? Why should we forget we have ever met? Tell me to forget that I am born!’
‘Oh, no, no; it is not like that. Mr. Meredith, we have only known each other four or five—a few weeks.’
‘Six—I have kept closer count than you.’
‘And what does that matter in a life?’ said Agnes, looking up at him with a courageous smile. ‘Nothing! no more than a moment. We have not done any harm,’ she added, collecting all her strength. ‘We have not neglected our work nor wasted our time. And we never meant anything. It was all an accident. Mr. Meredith, good-by. I shall pray that you may be happy.’
‘Ah! that is like what the world says of saints,’ he said, sharply. ‘You make me wretched, and then pray that I may be happy.’
‘Oh, no, no,’ she cried, the tears coming to her eyes. ‘How can I have made you wretched? It was only an accident. It has been only a moment. You will not refuse to say good-by.’
Foolish Agnes! she had nothing to do but to leave him, having said her say. But, instead of this she argued, bent upon making a logical conclusion to which he should consent, convinced, though against his will. On the whole she preferred that it should be against his will—but convinced she had determined that he must be. They walked away softly through the little street into the sunset, which sank lower every moment, shedding a glory of slant light upon the two young figures so sombre in garb, so radiant in life. Where they were going they did not know, nor how the charmed moments were passing. Every shade of the coming evening lay behind them, but all the glory of the rose tints and glowing purple, the daffodil skies and gates of pearl, before.