Already within the last few weeks, when it
looked as if this thing was going to be possible, I have been thinking
against my will of a compromise with Carleton that would give me his
support. This coming election was beginning to have terrors for me that
I have never before felt. The thought of defeat--having to go back to
comparative poverty, to comparative obscurity, with you as my wife, was
growing into a nightmare. I should have wanted wealth, fame, victory,
for your sake--to see you honoured, courted, envied, finely dressed and
finely housed--grateful to me for having won for you these things. It
wasn't honest, healthy love--the love that unites, that makes a man
willing to take as well as to give, that I felt for you; it was worship
that separates a man from a woman, that puts fear between them. It isn't
good that man should worship a woman. He can't serve God and woman.
Their interests are liable to clash. Nan's my helpmate--just a loving
woman that the Lord brought to me and gave me when I was alone--that I
still love. I didn't know it till last night.
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