Charles Dickens: A Christmas Carol

Stave 2: The First of the Three Spirits (continued)

`Have I ever sought release.'

`In words. No. Never.'

`In what, then.'

`In a changed nature; in an altered spirit; in another atmosphere of life; another Hope as its great end. In everything that made my love of any worth or value in your sight. If this had never been between us,' said the girl, looking mildly, but with steadiness, upon him;' tell me, would you seek me out and try to win me now. Ah, no.'

He seemed to yield to the justice of this supposition, in spite of himself. But he said with a struggle,' You think not.'

`I would gladly think otherwise if I could,' she answered, `Heaven knows. When I have learned a Truth like this, I know how strong and irresistible it must be. But if you were free to-day, to-morrow, yesterday, can even I believe that you would choose a dowerless girl -- you who, in your very confidence with her, weigh everything by Gain: or, choosing her, if for a moment you were false enough to your one guiding principle to do so, do I not know that your repentance and regret would surely follow. I do; and I release you. With a full heart, for the love of him you once were.'

He was about to speak; but with her head turned from him, she resumed.

`You may -- the memory of what is past half makes me hope you will -- have pain in this. A very, very brief time, and you will dismiss the recollection of it, gladly, as an unprofitable dream, from which it happened well that you awoke. May you be happy in the life you have chosen.'

She left him, and they parted.

`Spirit.' said Scrooge,' show me no more. Conduct me home. Why do you delight to torture me.'

`One shadow more.' exclaimed the Ghost.