"'Love does not care for sacrifices,' I reminded him.
"'I have no right to suppose that anybody has such a degree of regard for me,' he said.
"I can't tell what in his manner and words told me there was more behind. They were a little short and dry; and his ordinary way of speaking is short sometimes, but never with a sort of edge like this—a hard edge. You know it is as frank and simple when he speaks short as when his words come out in the gentlest way. It hurt me, for I saw that something hurt him.
"I asked if there was not anybody in England good enough for him? He said there were a great many too good.
"'Mr. Rhys,' said I,—I don't know what possessed me to be so bold,—'I hope you are not going to leave your heart behind with somebody, when you go to Fiji?'
"He got up and walked once or twice through the room, went out and presently came back again. I was afraid I had offended him, and I was a good deal troubled; but I did not know what to say. He sat down again and spoke first.
"'Mrs. Caxton,' said he, 'since you have probed the truth, I may as well confess it. I am going to do the unwise thing you have mentioned.'
"'Who are you going to leave your heart with, Mr. Rhys?' I asked.
"'With the lady who has just left you.'
"'Eleanor?'