by Thomas Dixon
CHAPTER XV
A DISCOVERY
Tom had grown restless waiting for Helen to emerge from the interminableinterview with his father. A half dozen times he had walked past thelibrary door only to hear the low hum of their voices still talking.
"What on earth is it all about, I wonder?" he muttered. "Must be tellingher the story of his whole life!"
He had asked her to meet him in the old rose garden when she came out. Forthe dozenth time he strolled in and sat down on their favorite rustic. Hecould neither sit still nor content himself with wandering.
"What the devil's the matter with me anyhow?" he said aloud. "The nextthing I'll be thinking I'm in love--good joke--bah!"
Helen was not the ideal he had dreamed. She had simply brought a sweetcompanionship into his life--that was all. She was a good fellow. She couldwalk, ride, run and hold her own at any game he liked to play. He hadwalked with her over miles of hills and valleys stretching in everydirection about town. He had never grown tired of these walks. He didn'thave to entertain her. They were silent often for a long time. They satdown beside the roadway, laughed and talked like chums with never athought of entertaining each other.
In the long rides they had taken in the afternoons and sometimes late inthe starlight or moonlight, she had never grown silly, sentimental ortiresome. A restful and home-like feeling always filled him when she was byhis side. He hadn't thought her very beautiful at first, but the longer heknew her the more charming and irresistible her companionship became.
"Her figure's a little too full for the finest type of beauty!" he wassaying to himself now. "Her arms are splendid, but the least bit too big,and her face sometimes looks too strong for a girl's! It's a pity. Still,by geeminy, when she smiles she is beautiful! Her face seems to fairlyblossom with funny little dimples--and that one on the chin is awfullypretty! She just misses by a hair being a stunningly beautiful girl!"
He flicked a fly from his boot with a switch he was carrying and glancedanxiously toward the house. "And I must say," he acknowledged judicially,"that she has a bright mind, her tastes are fine, her ideals high. Sheisn't all the time worrying over balls and dresses and beaux like a lot ofsilly girls I know. She's got too much sense for that. The fact is, she hasa brilliant mind."
Now that he came to think of it, she had a mind of rare brilliance.Everything she said seemed to sparkle. He didn't stop to ask the reasonwhy, he simply knew that it was so. If she spoke about the weather, herwords never seemed trivial.
He rose scowling and walked back to the house.
"What on earth can they be talking about all this time?" he cried angrily.Just then his father's tall figure stepped out on the porch, walked itslength and entered the sitting-room by one of the French windows.
He sprang up the steps, thrust his head into the hall, and softly whistled.He waited a moment, there was no response, and he repeated the call. Stillreceiving no answer, he entered cautiously:
"Miss Helen!"
He tipped to the library door and called again:
"Miss Helen!"
Surprised that she could have gone so quickly he rushed into the room,glanced hastily around, crossed to the window, looked out on the porch,heard the rustle of a skirt and turned in time to see her flying to escape.
With a quick dash he headed her off.
Hiding her face she turned and ran the other way for the door through whichhe had entered.
With a laugh and a swift leap Tom caught her arms.
"Lord, you're a sprinter!" he cried breathlessly. "But I've got you now!"he laughed, holding her pinioned arms tightly.
Helen lifted her tear-stained face:
"Please----"
Tom drew her gently around and looked into her eyes:
"Why--what on earth--you're crying!"
She tried to draw away but he held her hand firmly:
"What is it? What's happened? What's the matter?"
His questions were fired at her with lightning rapidity.
The girl dropped forlornly on the lounge and turned her face away:
"Please go!"
"I won't go--I won't!" he answered firmly as he bent closer.
"Please--please!"
"Tell me what it is?"
Helen held her face resolutely from him.
"Tell me," he urged tenderly.
"I can't!"
She threw herself prostrate and broke into sobs.
The boy wrung his hands helplessly, started to put his arm around her,caught himself in time and drew back with a start. At last he burst outpassionately:
"Don't--don't! For heaven's sake don't! It hurts me more than it doesyou--I don't know what it is but it hurts--it hurts inside and it hurtsdeep--please!"
Without lifting her head Helen cried:
"I don't want to live any more!"
"Oh, is that all?" Tom laughed. "I see, you've stubbed your toe and don'twant to live any more!"
"I mean it!" she broke in desperately.
"Good joke!" he cried again, laughing. "You don't want to live any more!Twenty years old and every line of your graceful, young form quivering withthe joy of life--you--you don't want to live! That's great!"
The girl lifted her dimmed eyes, looked at him a moment, and spoke thethought that had poisoned her soul--spoke it in hard, bitter accents with atouch of self-loathing:
"I've just learned that my birth is shadowed by disgrace!"
"Well, what have you to do with that?" he asked quickly. "Your whole beingshines with truth and purity. What's an accident of birth? You couldn'tchoose your parents, could you? You're a nameless orphan and my father isthe attorney of an old fool guardian who lives somewhere in Europe. Allright! The worst thing your worst enemy could say is that you're a child oflove--a great love that leaped all bounds and defied the law--a love thatwas madness and staked all life on the issue! That means you're a child ofthe gods. Some of the greatest men and women of the world were born likethat. Your own eyes are clear. There's no cloud on your beautiful soul----"
Tom paused and Helen lifted her face in rapt attention. The boy suddenlyleaped to his feet, turned away and spoke in ecstatic whispers:
"Good Lord--listen at me--why--I'm making love--great Scott--I'm in love!The big thing has happened--to me--to me! I feel the thrill of it--thething that transforms the world--why--it's like getting religion!"
He strode back and forth in a frenzy of absurd happiness.
Helen, smiling through her tears, asked:
"What are you saying? What are you talking about?"
With a cry of joy he was at her side, her hand tight gripped in his:
"Why, that I'm in love, my own--that I love you, my glorious little girl! Ididn't realize it until I saw just now the tears in your eyes and felt thepain of it. Every day these past weeks you've been stealing into my heartuntil now you're my very life! What hurts you hurts me--your joys aremine--your sorrows are mine!"
Laughing in spite of herself, Helen cried:
"You--don't realize what you're saying!"
"No--but I'm beginning to!" he answered with a boyish smile. "And it goesto my head like wine--I'm mad with its joy! I tell you I love you--I loveyou! and you love me--you do love me?"
The girl struggled, set her lips grimly and said fiercely:
"No--and I never shall!"
"You don't mean it?"
"I do!"
"You--you--don't love another?"
"No--no!"
"Then you _do_ love me!" he cried triumphantly. "You've just _got_ to loveme! I won't take any other answer! Look into my eyes!"
She turned resolutely away and he took both hands drawing her back untiltheir eyes met.
"Your lips say no," he went on, "but your tears, your voice, the tremor ofyour hand and the tenderness of your eyes say yes!"
Helen shook her head:
"No--no--no!"
But the last "no" grew feebler than the first and he pressed her hand withcruel pleading:
"Yes-
-yes--yes--say it, dear--please--just once."
Helen looked at him and then with a cry of joy that was resistless said:
"God forgive me! I can't help it--yes, yes, yes, I love you--I love you!"
Tom snatched her to his heart and held her in perfect surrender. Shesuddenly drew her arms from his neck, crying in dismay:
"No--no--I don't love you!"
The boy looked at her with a start and she went on quickly:
"I didn't mean to say it--I meant to say--I hate you!"
With a cry of pain she threw herself into his arms, clasping his neck andheld him close.
His hand gently stroked the brown hair while he laughed:
"Well, if that's the way you hate--keep it up!"
With an effort she drew back:
"But I mustn't----"
"There!" he said, tenderly drawing her close again. "It's all right. It'sno use to struggle. You're mine--mine, I tell you!"
With a determined effort she freed herself:
"It's no use, dear, our love is impossible."
"Nonsense!"
"But you don't realize that my birth is shadowed by disgrace!"
"I don't believe it--I wouldn't believe it if an angel said it. Who daresto say such a thing?"
"Your father!"
"My father?" he repeated in a whisper.
"He has always known the truth and now that I am of age he has told me----"
"Told you what?"
"Just what I said, and warned me that marriage could only bring pain andsorrow to those I love."
"He gave you no facts--only these vague warnings?"
"Yes, more--he told me----"
She paused and moved behind the table:
"That my father and mother were never married."
"Nothing more?" the boy asked eagerly.
"That's enough."
"Not for me!"
"Suppose my father were a criminal?"
"No matter--your soul's as white as snow"
"Suppose my mother----"
"I don't care who she was--you're an angel!"
Helen faced him with strained eagerness:
"You swear that no stain on my father or mother can ever make the leastdifference between us?"
"I swear it!" he cried grasping her hand. "Come, you're mine!"
Helen drew back:
"Oh, if I could only believe it----"
"You do believe it--come!"
He opened his arms and she smiled.
"What shall I do!"
"Come!"
Slowly at first, and then with quick, passionate tenderness she threwherself into his arms:
"I can't help it, dearest. It's too sweet and wonderful--God help me if I'mdoing wrong!"
"Wrong!" he exclaimed indignantly. "How can it be wrong, this solemn pledgeof life and love, of body and soul?"
She lifted her face to his in wonder:
"And you will dare to tell your father?"
"In good time, yes. But it's our secret now. Keep it until I say the timehas come for him to know. I'll manage him--promise!"
"Yes! How sweet it is to hear you tell me what to do! I shall never belonely or afraid again."
The father's footstep on the porch warned of his approach.
"Go quickly!" the boy whispered. "I don't want him to see us togetheryet--it means too much now--it means life itself!"
Helen moved toward the door, looked back, laughed, flew again into his armsand quickly ran into the hall as Norton entered from the porch.
The boy caught the look of surprise on his father's face, realized that hemust have heard the rustle of Helen's dress, and decided instantly toaccept the fact.
He boldly walked to the door and gazed after her retreating figure, hisback squarely on his father.
Norton paused and looked sharply at Tom:
"Was--that--Helen?"
The boy turned, smiling, and nodded with slight embarrassment in spite ofhis determined effort at self-control:
"Yes."
The father's keen eyes pierced the boy's:
"Why should she run?"
Tom's face sobered:
"I don't think she wished to see you just now, sir."
"Evidently!"
"She had been crying."
"And told you why?"
"Yes."
The father frowned:
"She has been in the habit of making you her confidant?"
"No. But I found her in tears and asked her the reason for them."
Norton was watching closely:
"She told you what I had just said to her?"
"Vaguely," Tom answered, and turning squarely on his father asked: "Wouldyou mind telling me the whole truth about it?"
"Why do you ask?"
The question came from the father's lips with a sudden snap, so suddenly,so sharply the boy lost his composure, hung his head, and stammered with anattempt at a smile:
"Oh--naturally curious--I suppose it's a secret?"
"Yes--I wish I could tell you, but I can't"--he paused and spoke withsudden decision:
"Ask Cleo to come here."