The Legacy of Cain
29. Helena's Diary
On reaching the street which led to Philip's hotel, we spoke to each other for the first
"What are we to do?" I said.
"Leave this place," he answered.
"Together?" I asked.
To leave us (for a while), after what had happened, might be the wisest thing which a
man, in Philip's critical position, could do. But if I went with him--unprovided as I was
with any friend of my own sex, whose character and presence might sanction the step I
had taken--I should be lost beyond redemption. Is any man that ever lived worth that
sacrifice? I thought of my father's house closed to me, and of our friends ashamed of me.
I have owned, in some earlier part of my Journal, that I am not very patient under
domestic cares. But the possibility of Eunice being appointed housekeeper, with my
power, in my place, was more than I could calmly contemplate. "No," I said to Philip.
"Your absence, at such a time as this, may help us both; but, come what may of it, I must
remain at home."
He yielded, without an attempt to make me alter my mind. There was a sullen submission
in his manner which it was not pleasant to see. Was he despairing already of himself and
of me? Had Eunice aroused the watchful demons of shame and remorse?
"Perhaps you are right," he said, gloomily. "Good-by."
My anxiety put the all-important question to him without hesitation.
"Is it good-by forever, Philip?"
His reply instantly relieved me: "God forbid!"
But I wanted more: "You still love me?" I persisted.
"More dearly than ever!"
"And yet you leave me!"
He turned pale. "I leave you because I am afraid."
"Afraid of what?"