Clara Hopgood
Page 57'I cannot,' he repeated. 'I OUGHT not. What will become of me?'
She felt herself stronger; he was excited, but his excitement was not
contagious. The string vibrated, and the note was resonant, but it
was not a note which was consonant with hers, and it did not stir her
to respond. He might love her, he was sincere enough to sacrifice
himself for her, and to remain faithful to her, but the voice was not
altogether that of his own true self. Partly, at least, it was the
voice of what he considered to be duty, of superstition and alarm.
She was silent.
me. Is it not greater than the love which thousands feel for one
another. Will you blast your future and mine, and, perhaps, that of
someone besides, who may be very dear to you? OUGHT you not, I say,
to listen?' The service had come to an end, the organist was playing a voluntary,
rather longer than usual, and the congregation was leaving, some of
them passing near Madge and Frank, and casting idle glances on the
young couple who had evidently come neither to pray nor to admire the
architecture. Madge recognised the well-known St Ann's fugue, and,
her; the golden ladder was let down and celestial visitors descended.
When the music ceased she spoke.
'It would be a crime.' 'A crime, but I--' She stopped him.
'I know what you are going to say. I know what is the crime to the
world; but it would have been a crime, perhaps a worse crime, if a
ceremony had been performed beforehand by a priest, and the worst of
crimes would be that ceremony now. I must go.' She rose and began
to move towards the door.
churchyard, when she took him by the hand, pressed it affectionately
and suddenly turned into one of the courts that lead towards
Paternoster Row. He did not follow her, something repelled him, and
when he reached home it crossed his mind that marriage, after such
delay, would be a poor recompense, as he could not thereby conceal
her disgrace.