"Yes, I believe it is unselfish to the extent that a man's love may be,"
returned Frances, defending herself. "But if it is, surely you would not
deny me the joy of telling you of mine, when it is all the happiness I
shall ever know my whole life through. You say, with truth, I believe,
that you would not permit me to share your fate if I would, because you
fear to make me unhappy. Yet you complain and say that I am cruel because
I take now what joy I can at so shameful a sacrifice of womanly pride and
modesty. You say that I am cruel because I cannot give you all--myself. I
would share your fortunes unhesitatingly were it not that I dare not give
one thought to my own happiness."
She paused for a moment to gather self-control, and when she was more
calm, proceeded with her defence: "I belong to my father and to my house,
and God has appointed me to lift them from their fallen estate. I cannot
give you myself, but I do give you my love for the sheer ecstasy of
giving, and beg you to accept it as all that I have to offer and to give
me the sweet privilege of keeping yours, which. I know is mine, that it
may warm my heart in the weary years to come. I wonder if you, being a
man, can understand it all. I hardly understand it myself, but this I
know: I have done what I have done because I could not help it, and you
say that I am cruel because you feel a part of the pain I suffer."
"No, no, I was wrong," said Hamilton, dropping to his knees before her
and seizing her hand.
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