“He doesn’t do it willingly.”
“No. And we won’t. And
after a while—after we’ve got back,
and compared Altruria and America from practical experience,
if we decide to go and live there altogether, I will
let you do what you please with the hateful money.
I suppose we couldn’t take it there with us?”
“No more than you could take it to heaven with
you,” I answered, solemnly; but she would not
let me be altogether serious about it.
“Well, in either case we could get on without
it, though we certainly could not get on without it
here. Why, Aristide, it is essential to the influence
we shall try to exert for Altrurianism; for if we came
back here and preached the true life without any money
to back us, no one would pay any attention to us.
But if we have a good house waiting for us, and are
able to entertain nicely, we can attract the best people,
and—and—really do some good.”
I rose in a distress which I could not hide.
“Oh, Eveleth, Eveleth!” I cried.
“You are like all the rest, poor child!
You are the creature of your environment, as we all
are. You cannot escape what you have been.
It may be that I was wrong to wish or expect you to
cast your lot with me in Altruria, at once and forever.
It may be that it is my duty to return here with you
after a time, not only to let you see that Altruria
is best, but to end my days in this unhappy land,
preaching and teaching Altrurianism; but we must not
come as prophets to the comfortable people, and entertain
nicely. If we are to renew the evangel, it must
be in the life and the spirit of the First Altrurian:
we must come poor to the poor; we must not try to
win any one, save through his heart and conscience;
we must be as simple and humble as the least of those
that Christ bade follow Him. Eveleth, perhaps
you have made a mistake. I love you too much
to wish you to suffer even for your good. Yes,
I am so weak as that. I did not think that this
would be the sacrifice for you that it seems, and
I will not ask it of you. I am sorry that we have
not understood each other, as I supposed we had.
I could never become an American; perhaps you could
never become an Altrurian. Think of it, dearest.
Think well of it, before you take the step which you
cannot recede from. I hold you to no promise;
I love you so dearly that I cannot let you hold yourself.
But you must choose between me and your money—no,
not me—but between love and your money.
You cannot keep both.”
She had stood listening to me; now she cast herself
on my heart and stopped my words with an impassioned
kiss. “Then there is no choice for me.
My choice is made, once for all.” She set
her hands against my breast and pushed me from her.
“Go now; but come again to-morrow. I want
to think it all over again. Not that I have any
doubt, but because you wish it—you wish
it, don’t you?—and because I will
not let you ever think I acted upon an impulse, and
that I regretted it.”
