“I am sure my father does not know it to be a lie, and I do not myself know it to be a lie.”
“I was not thinking of your father, but of the clergy generally, and you _do_ know it to be a lie.”
“It is not true of my brother, and, excepting my father and brother, you have not been in company with parsons, as you call them, for half an hour in your life.”
“Do you mean to tell me you have any doubts about this discredited rubbish?”
“If I have I would rather not speak about them now. Jim, dear Jim, let us drop the subject and talk of something else.”
He was walking by her side, with his hands in his coat pockets. She drew out one of his hands; he did not return the pressure, and presently released himself.
“I thought you were to be my intellectual companion. I have heard you say yourself that a marriage which is not a marriage of mind is no marriage.”
“But, Jim, is there nothing in the world to think about but this?”
“There is nothing so important. Are we to be dumb all our lives about what you say is religion?”
They separated and soon afterwards the engagement was broken off. Jim had really loved Elizabeth, but at that time he was furious against what he called “creeds.” He waited for three or four years till he had secured a fair practice, and then married a clever and handsome young woman who wrote poems, and had captivated him by telling him a witty story from Heine. Elizabeth never married.
Thirty years passed, and Jim, now a famous physician, had to go a long distance down the Great Western Railway to attend a consultation. At Bath an elderly lady entered the carriage carrying a handbag with the initials “E. C.” upon it. She sat in the seat farthest away from him on the opposite side, and looked at him steadfastly. He also looked at her, but no word was spoken for a minute. He then crossed over, fell on his knees, and buried his head with passionate sobbing on her knees. She put her hands on him and her tears fell.
“Five years,” at last he said; “I may live five years with care. She has left me. I will give up everything and go abroad with you. Five years; it is not much, but it will be something, everything. I shall die with your face over me.”
The train was slackening speed for Bristol; she bent down and kissed him.