“But you have said yourself that you could not help it.”
“I should have been able to; that is where I showed my utter unfitness for the undertaking. Now do you understand?”
“Yes, Jack,” Helen replied, slowly, after a moment’s pause, “I think I do understand; but I also think that my understanding is clearer than yours.”
“Does it not enable you to forgive me for it all?”
“Yes—I have already told you that. What you have said is exactly what I knew you must say when you had been long enough away from your work. I have never felt this influence of which you have so often spoken, but I have recognized its strength by what I have seen. I do not mean that you need necessarily continue in your present intensity, but I do mean that whether you recognize it or not this second nature is your real self.”
“But I tell you that I have no further interest in my work.”
“You think so, Jack, but you have been away from it for weeks. Perhaps by returning home you could smother your love of it for a long time, but it would be there just the same. And without it you could never express your own individuality.”
“I would, at least, be the self you knew before we came here.”
“Yes, but only that. With all the pain, Jack, I have not been blind to what it has done for you. With all the misapplication of the principles which you mention you have gained so much that you could never be the old self again. I could not respect you if you did. Surely it would not be following the teachings of these grand spirits were you to live a life below the standard which you have shown yourself capable of maintaining.”
“Then let us live that life together, Helen,” Armstrong begged; “let us begin all over again, taking my mistakes as guiding-posts to keep us from the dangers against which I have not been strong enough, alone, to guard myself.”