China Edward Rutherfurd (essential reading .txt) 📖

I retired to Salisbury, which was exceedingly good of you. But as Henry was just home from China and I was proud of him—and because, I confess, I wanted my son to see what a fine estate my cousin had—I asked if he could come, too, and you said yes. Little did I imagine what it would lead to.”

In fact the visit had gone rather well. They’d all spent a week together, enjoying family meals and country walks. They’d gone to church, where the missionary and his wife had been welcomed with deep respect. John had even asked a couple of his more religious-minded neighbors to dinner one evening, and they had questioned Cecil closely about China and the Christian work there and thought him a splendid fellow.

And truth to tell, during that whole week, no one had really noticed that Henry and Emily were often together.

“Did you know that Henry and your daughter started corresponding after that?” Cecil asked.

“Not at the time.”

“He wrote from the mission’s headquarters in London, of course, so it didn’t look like a personal letter. What I resent is that he never told me.”

“He was nearly thirty. He didn’t have to.”

“He didn’t tell me because he knew what I’d have said. And then Emily and her sister went to Edinburgh for a week, so he went there and met them, and made it look as if it were quite by chance. Deceitful.”

“All’s fair in love and war, they say.”

“Not if you’re a missionary!” Cecil retorted furiously. “My son has treated you abominably.”

“Have you told him so?”

“I most certainly have. I have told him that he has been underhanded, selfish, and irresponsible.”

“What does he say?”

“Oh, the usual. He respects me, but in this case he must trust his own judgment. You know the sort of thing.”

“She told me she’s prepared to elope with him.”

“Elope?” Cecil blinked his eyes. “Elope?”

“She’s of age. It may not be illegal. What would the mission do if they eloped and then turned up in China? Assuming they were married, of course.”

“Send them back at once, I trust,” said Cecil firmly. Then he paused. “They might not,” he conceded. “They’re always short of hands.” He shook his head in puzzlement. “What does she see in him? He’s not a tall, handsome fellow like her brothers. He’s hardly better looking than I am.”

“He’s got a sort of magnetic force,” said Trader thoughtfully. “Knows what he wants. Won’t take no for an answer. Women like that. Whether it’s gone further…Though she’s always been chaperoned.”

“Heaven forfend! Please don’t tell me so.”

“I don’t think he’s seduced her. Or she him. I think she’s in love with the idea of being a missionary’s wife. You know, romantic and all that.”

“There is absolutely nothing romantic about being a missionary’s wife,” Cecil said firmly. “Nothing.” He took an angry sip at his whisky, ruminated silently for a few moments, and continued. “A good deal of my life,” he said slowly, “is spent asking people for funds to support the missions.” He smiled wanly. “There are tricks to that trade, and I’ve learned most of them. It helps, of course, that I honestly believe it’s a good cause.” He paused. “But I never suggest to anybody that they should become a missionary.”

“What if they ask if they should? You surely don’t discourage them?”

“In almost all cases that’s exactly what I do. Even if they insist that they want to.”

“Why?”

“Because as with a lot of difficult callings—in my observation—the good people are not the ones who desire the career. It’s the people who just find they have to do it. They can’t help themselves. In the church, the best priests often didn’t want to follow the stony path at all. But something led them to it. So my guess is that you’re right. She’s in love with the idea of the missionary life—which is exactly why she shouldn’t do it.”

“Will you tell her this?”

“In words of one syllable.”

—

He did, the following evening. He explained to her kindly but firmly what the life of a missionary was really like. “One of the worst things,” he informed her, “is that you never really know whom you can trust. And just when you think you may at last be securing a genuine convert, they let you down.” He outlined the constant lack of money, the worries about one’s children, and the stress that can arise between husband and wife in such difficult conditions. “You’ll be lonely, too. You’ll yearn for home. In short, to put the matter frankly, you won’t find it’s what you imagined at all. You’ll find you’ve made a huge mistake.”

To which, after smiling and nodding gently, she answered: “You sound just like Henry.”

“I do?”

“Those are all the things he keeps telling me.”

It was time to get tough. “You seem to think that everything’s going to be all right just because you’ll be with Henry. But I must tell you that in my opinion, you are not only unprepared, but unsuited for this life. You have never known anything except comfort, whereas life in a Chinese mission is harsh. We often have to work with our hands. You won’t like it, and frankly you won’t be any good at it.”

“We may live in the big house, Mr. Whiteparish, but this is the countryside. I know the farmworkers. I’ve grown up with their children. I know exactly how they live and how to work with my hands.”

“But China is nothing like Galloway. You’ll be surrounded by people who speak no English. None.”

“Some of the old people in Galloway still don’t speak English. They speak Gaelic. I can even speak a little myself.”

“Had it ever occurred to you that, without wishing it, you may be a hindrance to your husband?”

A shadow seemed to pass across her face. “You really think so?”

“I’m afraid I do.”

Emily was silent, frowning. Had he got through to her? Was this a ray of hope? And all credit to the girl, he thought, it appeared that the idea