The root of Emma's character was
steadfast faith. She did not allow herself to judge of Richard by
the impulses of her own heart; those, she argued, were womanly; a
man must be more independent in his strength. Of what a man ought to
be she had but one criterion, Richard's self. Her judgment on this
point had been formed five or six years ago; she felt that nothing
now could ever shake it. All of expressed love that he was pleased
to give her she stored in the shrine of her memory; many a light
word forgotten by the speaker as soon as it was uttered lived still
as a part of the girl's hourly life, but his reticences she accepted
with no less devout humility. What need of repetitions? He had
spoken to her the decisive word, and it was a column established for
ever, a monument of that over which time had no power. Women are too
apt to make their fondness a source of infinite fears; in Emma
growth of love meant growth of confidence.
'Does all go well at the works?' was her first question. For she had
made his interests her own, and was following in ardent imagination
the undertaking which stamped her husband with nobility.
Richard talked on the subject for some moments; it was easier to do
so than to come at once to the words he had in mind. But he worked
round by degrees, fighting the way hard.
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