If Mrs. Black whom he had at the time
fairly cursed in his heart, in spite of his profession, had not
appeared with her notice of dinner, he would be in a most unpleasant
predicament. Only the girl's innate good sense could have served as a
refuge, and he reflected with the utmost tenderness that he might
confidently rely upon that. He was almost sure that the poor girl
loved him. He was quite sure that he loved her. But he was also sure,
with a strong sense of pride in her, that she would have refused him,
not on mercenary grounds, for Fanny he knew would have shared a crust
and hovel with the man she loved; but Fanny would love the man too
well to consent to the crust and the hovel, on his own account. She
would not have said in so many words, "What! marry you, a minister so
poor that a begging fair has to be held to pay his salary?" She
would have not refused him her love and sympathy, but she would have
let him down so gently from the high prospect of matrimony that he
would have suffered no jolt.
Elliot was a good fellow. It was on the girl's account that he
suffered. He suffered, as a matter of course. He wanted Fanny badly,
but he realized himself something of a cad. He discounted his own
suffering; perhaps, as he told himself with sudden suspicion of
self-conceit, he overestimated hers. Still, he was sure that the girl
would suffer more than he wished. He blamed himself immeasurably. He
tried to construct air castles which would not fall, even before the
impact of his own thoughts, in which he could marry this girl and
live with her happily ever after, but the man had too much common
sense.
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