“Yes, no doubt... But, Rosa, there's another kind of man altogether, whose love has the reverence of a religion, and if I ever meet a man like that—one who is ready to trample all the world under his feet for me—I think—yes, I really think I shall leave everything behind and follow him.”
“Leave everything behind, indeed! That would be pretty! When everything yields before you, too, and all the world and his wife are waiting to shout your praises!”
Rosa had gone to her office, and Glory was turning over some designs for stage costumes, when Liza came in to say that the “Farver” was coming upstairs.
“He has come to scold me,” thought Glory, so she began to hum, to push things about, and fill the room with noise. But when she saw his drawn face and wide-open eyes she wanted to fall on his neck and cry.
“You have come to tell me you can't do what I suggested?” she said. “Of course you can't.”
“No,” he said slowly, very slowly. “I have thought it all over, and concluded that I can—that I must. Yes, I am willing to go away, Glory, and when you are ready I shall be ready too.”
“But where—where—?”
“I don't know yet; but I am willing to wait for the unrolling of the scroll. I am willing to follow step by step, not knowing whither. I am willing to go where God wills, for life or death.”
“But your work in London—your great, great work——”
“God will see to that, Glory. He can do without any of us. None of us can do without him. The sun will set without any assistance, you know,” and the pale face made an effort to smile.