fluence efficiently in life； and retain absolutely till death。”
I shuddered as he spoke： I felt his influence in my marrow—his hold on my limbs。
“Seek one elsewhere than in me； St。 John： seek one fitted to you。”
“One fitted to my purpose； you mean—fitted to my vocation。 Again I tell you it is not the insignificant private individual—the mere man； with the man’s selfish senses—I wish to mate： it is the missionary。”
“And I will give the missionary my energies—it is all he wants—but not myself： that would be only adding the husk and shell to the kernel。 For them he has no use： I retain them。”
“You cannot—you ought not。 Do you think God will be satisfied with half an oblation？ Will He accept a mutilated sacrifice？ It is the cause of God I advocate： it is under His standard I enlist you。 I cannot accept on His behalf a divided allegiance： it must be entire。”
“Oh！ I will give my heart to God；” I said。 “You do not want it。”
I will not swear； reader； that there was not something of repressed sarcasm both in the tone in which I uttered this sentence； and in the feeling that acpanied it。 I had silently feared St。 John till now； because I had not understood him。 He had held me in awe； because he had held me in doubt。 How much of him was saint； how much mortal； I could not heretofore tell： but revelations were being made in this conference： the analysis of his nature was proceeding before my eyes。 I saw his fallibilities： I prehended them。 I understood that； sitting there where I did； on the bank of heath； and with that handsome form before me； I sat at the feet of a man； caring as I。 The veil fell from his hardness and despotism。 Having felt in him the presence of these qualities； I felt his imperfection and took courage。 I I might argue—one whom； if I saw good； I might resist。
He was silent after I had uttered the last sentence； and I presently risked an upward glance at his countenance。
His eye； bent on me； expressed at once stern surprise and keen inquiry。 “Is she sarcastic； and sarcastic to me！” it seemed to say。 “What does this signify？”
“Do not let us forget that this is a solemn matter；” he said ere long； “one of which we may neither think nor talk lightly without sin。 I trust； Jane； you are in earnest when you say you will serve your heart to God： it is all I want。 Once wrench your heart from man； and fix it on your Maker； the advancement of that Maker’s spiritual kingdom on earth will be your chief delight and endeavour； you will be ready to do at once whatever furthers that end。 You will see what impetus would be given to your efforts and mine by our physical and mental union in marriage： the only union that gives a character of permanent conformity to the destinies and designs of human beings； and； passing over all minor caprices—all trivial difficulties and delicacies of feeling—all scruple about the degree； kind； strength or tenderness of mere personal inclination— you will hasten to enter into that union at once。”
“Shall I？” I said briefly； and I looked at his features； beautiful in their harmony； but strangely formidable in their still severity； at his brow； manding but not open； at his eyes； bright and deep and searching； but never soft； at his tall imposing figure； and fancied myself in idea HIS WIFE。 Oh！ it would never do！ As his curate； his rade； all would be right： I would cross oceans with him in that capacity； toil under Eastern suns； in Asian deserts with him in that office； admire and emulate his courage and devotion and vigour； acmodate quietly to his masterhood； smile undisturbed at his ineradicable ambition； discriminate the Christian from the man： profoundly esteem the one； and freely forgive the other。 I should suffer often； no doubt； attached to him only in this capacity： my body would be under rather a stringent yoke； but my heart and mind would be free。 I should still have my unblighted self to turn to： my natural unenslaved feelings with which to municate in moments of loneliness。 There would be recesses in my mind which would be only mine； to which he never came； and sentiments growing there fresh and sheltered which his austerity could never blight； nor his measured warrior…march trample down： but as his wife—at his side always； and always restrained； and always checked—forced to keep the fire of my nature continually low； to pel it to burn inwardly and never utter a cry； though the imprisoned flame consumed vital after vital—this would be unendurable。
“St。 John！” I exclaimed； when I had got so far in my meditation。
“Well？” he answered icily。
“I repeat I freely consent to go with you as your fellow…missionary； but not as your wife； I cannot marry you and bee part of you。”
“A part of me you must bee；” he answered steadily； “otherwise the whole bargain is void。 How can I； a man not yet thirty； take out with me to India a girl of nieen； unless she be married to me？ How can we be for ever together—sometimes in solitudes； sometimes amidst savage tribes—and unwed？”
“Very well；” I said shortly； “under the circumstances； quite as well as if I were either your real sister； or a man and a clergyman like yourself。”
“It is known that you are not my sister； I cannot introduce you as such： to attempt it would be to fasten injurious suspicions on us both。 And for the rest； though you have a man’s vigorous brain； you have a woman’s heart and—it would not do。”
“It would do；” I affirmed with some disdain； “perfectly well。 I have a woman’s heart； but not where you are concerned； for you I have only a rade’s constancy； a fellow…soldier’s frankness； fidelity； fraternity； if you like； a neophyte’s respect and submission to his hierophant： nothing more—don’t fear。”
“It is what I want；” he said； speaking to himself； “it is just what I want。 And there are obstacles in the way： they must be hewn down。 Jane； you would not repent marrying me—be certain of that； we must be married。 I repeat it： there is no other way； and undoubtedly enough of love would follow upon marriage to render the union right even in your eyes。”
“I scorn your idea of love；” I could not help saying； as I rose up and stood before him； leaning my back against the rock。 “I scorn the counterfeit sentiment you offer： yes； St。 John； and I scorn you when you offer it。”
He looked at me fixedly； pressing his well…cut lips while he did so。 Whether he was incensed or surprised； or what； it was not easy to tell： he could mand his countenance thoroughly。
“I scarcely expected to hear that expression from you；” he said： “I think I have done and uttered nothing to deserve scorn。”
I was touched by his gentle tone； and overawed by his high； calm mien。
“Forgive me the words； St。 John； but it is your own fault that I have been roused to speak so unguardedly。 You have introduced a topic on which our natures are at variance—a topic we should never discuss： the very name of love is an apple of discord between us。 If the reality were required； what should we do？ How should we feel？ My dear cousin； abandon your scheme of marriage—forget it。”
“No；” said he； “it is a long…cherished scheme； and the only one which can secure my great end： but I shall urge you no further at present。 To…morrow； I leave home for Cambridge： I have many friends there to whom I should wish to say farewell。 I shall be absent a fortnight—take that space of time to consider my offer： and do not forget that if you reject it； it is not me you deny； but God。 Through my means； He opens to you a noble career； as my wife only can you enter upon it。 Refuse to be my wife； and you limit yourself for ever to a track of selfish ease and barren obscurity。 Tremble lest in that case you should be numbered with those who have denied the faith； and are worse than infidels！”
He had done。 Turning from me； he once more
“Looked to river； looked to hill。”
But this time his feelings were all pent in his heart： I was not worthy to hear them uttered。 As I walked by his side homeward； I read well in his iron silence all he felt towards me： the disappointment of an austere and despotic nature； which has met resistance where it expected submission—the disapprobation of a cool； inflexible judgment； which has detected in another feelings and views in which it has no power to sympathise： in short； as a man； he would have wished to coerce me into obedience： it was only as a sincere Christian he bore so patiently with my perversity； and allowed so long a space for reflection and repentance。
That night； after he had kissed his sisters； he thought proper to forget even to shake hands with me； but left the room in silence。 I—who； though I had no love； had much friendship for him—was hurt by the marked omission： so much hurt that tears started to my eyes。
“I see you and St。 John have been quarrelling； Jane；” said Diana； “during your walk on the moor。 But go after him； he is now lingering in the passage expecting you—he will make it up。”
I have not much pride under such circumstances： I would always rather be happy than dignified； and I ran after him—he stood at the foot of the stairs。
“Good…night； St。 John；” said I。
“Good…night； Jane；” he replied calmly。
“Then shake hands；” I added。
What a cold； loose touch； he impressed on my fingers！ He was deeply displeased by what had occurred that day； cordiality would not warm； nor tears move him。 No happy reconciliation was to be had with him—no cheering smile or generous word： but still the Christian was patient and placid； and when I asked him if he forgave me； he answered that he was not in the habit of cherishing the remembrance of vexation； that he had nothing to forgive； not having been offended。
And with that answer he left me。 I would much rather he had knocked me down。
Chapter 35
He did not leave for Cambridge the next day； as he had said he would。 He deferred his departure a whole week； and during that time he made me feel what severe punishment a good yet stern； a conscientious yet implacable man can inflict on one who has offended him。 Without one overt act of hostility； one upbraiding word； he contrived to impress me momently with the conviction that I was put beyond the pale of his favour。
Not that St。 John harboured a spirit of unchristian vindictiveness— not that he would have injured a hair of my head； if it had been fully in his power to do so。 Both by nature and principle； he was superior to the mean gratification of vengeance： he had forgiven me for saying I scorned him and his love； but he had not forgotten the words； and as long as he and I lived he never would forget them。 I saw by his look； when he turned to me； that they were always written on the air between me and him； whenever I spoke； they sounded in my voice to his ear； and their echo toned every answer he gave me。
He did not abstain from conversing with me： he even called me as usual each morning to join him at his desk； and I fear the corrupt man within him had a pleasure unimparted to； and unshared by； the pure Christian； in evincing with what skill he could； while acting and speaking apparently just as usual； extract from every deed and every phrase the spirit of interest and approval which had formerly municated a certain austere charm to his language and manner。 To me； he was in reality bee no