Ainslee's Magazine, February 1913 — page 34: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

24 “You forget, sir,’ he said angrily, “you are insulting my honor.” “Not in the least in the world; you do not understand the point,’ Count Roumovski returned calmly. “Listen for a minute, and I will explain. If Miss Rawson were already your wife, | I should be, and you would have the right to try and kill me—did your call- ing permit of that satisfaction of gen- tlemen—hbecause there is a psychologi- cal and physiological reason involved in that case, producing the instinct in man —which he is not, perhaps, conscious of—-that he wishes to be sure his wife’s legitimate offspring are his own. Out of this instinct civilization has built up the idea of a man’s honor, which you can see has a basic principle of sense and justice.” Mr. Medlicott with difficulty re- strained himself from interrupting, and the Russian went on: “The situation of betrothed is alto- gether different. In it there have mere- ly been promises exchanged, promises, for the most part, which no man or woman can honestly engage with any certainty to keep, because feeling to- ward the other is not within his or her control; both are promising upon a sen- timent, not a reality.” “T totally disagree with you,’ Eustace Medlicott answered angrily. “When men and women make promises to one another they should have wills strong enough to keep them.” “For what sensible reason?’ Count Roumovski asked. “In a case where the happiness of both is involved, and where no damage has been incurred by either Mr. Medlicott clasped his hands con- vulsively, but he did not reply; so the Russian went on: “Surely you must see that a woman should be free to marry—that is, to give herself and her power to become a .mother—where she loves, not to be forced to bestow these sacred gifts when her spirit is unwilling, just be- cause she has made the initial mistake of affiancing herself to a man—often through others’ influence—whom she discovers afterward is distasteful to AINSLEE’S her. Cannot you realize that it is wise for himself, as well as for her, that this man release her before a life of long misery begins for thém both?” Mr. Medlicott never analyzed rea- sons, and never listened to other peo- ple’s logic, and if he had any of his own he was too angry to use it. He was simply conscious now that a for- eigner had insulted him and appeared to have stolen the affections of his be- trothed, and his sacred calling pre- cluded all physical retaliation—which at the moment was the only kind that would have given him any satisfaction. He prepared to stalk furiously from the room after he should receive an answer to an all-important question. “The whole thing is disgraceful,’ he said; “and I shall inform Miss Raw- son’s uncle and aunt of your highly in- sulting words to me that they may guard her from further importunity upon your part. But I should like to know, in fairness, how far you are stat- ing you have been able to persuade my fiancée to agree to your view?” “T am sorry you should have be- come so heated and angry,’ Count Rou- movski returned, “because it stops all sensible discussion. I deeply regret having been forced to inflict pain upon you, but if you would give yourself time to think calmly you would see that, however unfortunate the fact may be for you of Miss Rawson’s affections having become fixed on me, these things are no one’s fault, and beyond human control. Miss Rawson has left the breaking off of her engagement to you in my hands, and has decided that she desires to marry me, as I desire to marry her, as soon as she is free.” “T refuse to listen to another word,” Mr. Medlicott flashed; “and I warn you, sir, that I will give no such free- dom at your bidding; on the contrary, I shall have my marriage with Miss Rawson solemnized immediately, and try—if there is a word of truth in your preposterous assertion that she loves you—to bring her back to a proper sense of her duty to me and to God, repressing her earthly longings by dis- cipline and self-denial, the only true (C@ ANIC IOOkK (F@)