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le; but; as before; controlled his passion perfectly。 He answered emphatically but calmly—
“A female curate; who is not my wife; would never suit me。 With me; then; it seems; you cannot go: but if you are sincere in your offer; I will; while in town; speak to a married missionary; whose wife needs a coadjutor。 Your own fortune will make you independent of the Society’s aid; and thus you may still be spared the dishonour of breaking your promise and deserting the band you engaged to join。”
Now I never had; as the reader knows; either given any formal promise or entered into any engagement; and this language was all much too hard and much too despotic for the occasion。 I replied—
“There is no dishonour; no breach of promise; no desertion in the case。 I am not under the slightest obligation to go to India; especially with strangers。 With you I would have ventured much; because I admire; confide in; and; as a sister; I love you; but I am convinced that; go when and with whom I would; I should not live long in that climate。”
“Ah! you are afraid of yourself;” he said; curling his lip。
“I am。 God did not give me my life to throw away; and to do as you wish me would; I begin to think; be almost equivalent to mitting suicide。 Moreover; before I definitively resolve on quitting England; I will know for certain whether I cannot be of greater use by remaining in it than by leaving it。”
“What do you mean?”
“It would be fruitless to attempt
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