De Stancy paused and looked at the lad as if his heart wished to confess what his judgment feared to tell. ‘There should not be—on this point,’ he murmured.
‘Then tell me—why do you so much object to her?’
‘I once vowed a vow.’
‘A vow!’ said Dare, rather disconcerted.
‘A vow of infinite solemnity. I must tell you from the beginning; perhaps you are old enough to hear it now, though you have been too young before. Your mother’s life ended in much sorrow, and it was occasioned entirely by me. In my regret for the wrong done her I swore to her that though she had not been my wife, no other woman should stand in that relationship to me; and this to her was a sort of comfort. When she was dead my knowledge of my own plaguy impressionableness, which seemed to be ineradicable—as it seems still—led me to think what safeguards I could set over myself with a view to keeping my promise to live a life of celibacy; and among other things I determined to forswear the society, and if possible the sight, of women young and attractive, as far as I had the power to do.’
‘It is not so easy to avoid the sight of a beautiful woman if she crosses your path, I should think?’
‘It is not easy; but it is possible.’
‘How?’
‘By directing your attention another way.’
‘But do you mean to say, captain, that you can be in a room with a pretty woman who speaks to you, and not look at her?’