by Elinor Glyn
XXXI
It was eighteen months after this before they met again--Hector andTheodora; and now it was May, and the flowers bloomed and the birdssang, and all the world was young and fair--only Morella Winmarleigh wasgrowing into a bitter old maid.
At twenty-eight people might have taken her for a matron of ten yearsolder.
She had wondered for weeks what was the result of her action with theletters. She hoped daily to hear of some catastrophe and scandal fallingupon the head of Theodora. But she heard nothing. It was only afterJosiah's death that details were wafted to her through the Fitzgeralds.
How poor Mr. Brown had never really recovered from a slight stroke hehad had on leaving Beechleigh, and of Theodora's goodness and devotionto him, and of his worship of her. And Morella had the maddening feelingthat if she had left well alone this death might never have occurred,and her hated rival might not now be a free and beautiful widow, withno impediment between herself and Hector when they should choose tomeet.
She had meant to be revenged and punish them, and it seemed she had onlycleared their path to happiness. There was really no justice in thisworld!
Theodora had gone to meet her father and step-mother in Paris.
Her sisters were married and very happy, she hoped. Prosperity hadwonderfully embellished their attractions, and even Sarah had found amate.
And Lady Bracondale remained her placid, stately self. Her grief anddisappointment over Hector's departure from England had passed away bynow, as so had her treasured dream of receiving Morella Winmarleigh as adaughter. But Anne whispered to her that she need not worry forever, andsome day soon her brother might choose a bride whom even she would love.
Hector had continued his wanderings over the world for many months afterJosiah's death. He felt, should he return to England, nothing could keephim from Theodora.
And she, too, had travelled and explored fresh scenes, and was now asupremely beautiful and experienced woman--courted and flattered, andbesieged by many adorers.
But she was still Theodora, with only one love in her heart and onedream in her soul--to meet Hector again and spend the rest of her lifein the shelter of his arms.
She heard of him often through her step-mother; and sometimes she sawAnne--and both Hector and she understood, and knew the time would comewhen they could be happy.
Jane Anastasia Fitzgerald had romantic notions. This pretty pair, whomshe looked upon as of her own producing, must meet again under herauspices in like circumstances as they had done on the happy andnever-to-be-forgotten day when she herself had promised her heart andhand to Dominic Fitzgerald.
"There is something lucky about Versailles," she said, "and they shallexperience it, too!"
So she planned a picnic, and arranged it with Hector before he reachedParis. He was not to show himself or communicate with Theodora; he wasjust to be there at the Reservoirs and wait for their arrival.
And the gods smiled--and the day was fine--and the trees were green--ashad been another day, two years ago.
And oh, the wild, mad joy that surged up in their hearts when their eyesmet once more!
They could not speak, it seemed, even the words of politeness; so theywandered away into the spring woods, silent and glad; and it was notuntil they reached the shrine of old Enceladus that Hector claspedTheodora again in his arms, and gave rein to all the passionate love anddelirious happiness which was flooding his being.
There one can leave them--together--for always--looking out upon therealization of that fair dream of life.
Safe in each other's arms, in those smooth waters, beyond the rocks.
THE END