CHAPTER XXXIV
"LOVE NEVER FAILETH"
Garth was standing at the open window, when Nurse Rosemary re-enteredthe library; and he did not turn, immediately.
She looked anxiously for the letter, and saw it laid ready on her sideof the table. It bore signs of having been much crumpled; lookingalmost as a letter might appear which had been crushed into a ball,flung into the waste-paper basket, and afterwards retrieved. It had,however, been carefully smoothed out; and lay ready to her hand.
When Garth turned from the window and passed to his chair, his facebore the signs of a great struggle. He looked as one who, sightless,has yet been making frantic efforts to see. The ivory pallor was gone.His face was flushed; and his thick hair, which grew in beautifulcurves low upon his forehead and temples, and was usually carefullybrushed back in short-cropped neatness, was now ruffled and disordered.But his voice was completely under control, as he turned towards hissecretary.
"My dear Miss Gray," he said, "we have a difficult task before us. Ihave received a letter, which it is essential I should hear. I amobliged to ask you to read it to me, because there is absolutely no oneelse to whom I can prefer such a request. I cannot but know that itwill be a difficult and painful task for you, feeling yourself anintermediary between two wounded and sundered hearts. May I make iteasier, my dear little girl, by assuring you that I know of no one inthis world from whose lips I could listen to the contents of thatletter with less pain; and, failing my own, there are no eyes beneathwhich I could less grudgingly let it pass, there is no mind I could sounquestioningly trust, to judge kindly, both of myself and of thewriter; and to forget faithfully, all which was not intended to comewithin the knowledge of a third person."
"Thank you, Mr. Dalmain," said Nurse Rosemary.
Garth leaned back in his chair, shielding his face with his hand.
"Now, if you please," he said. And, very clearly and quietly, NurseRosemary began to read.
"DEAR GARTH, As you will not let me come to you, so that I could say,between you and me alone, that which must be said, I am compelled towrite it. It is your own fault, Dal; and we both pay the penalty. Forhow can I write to you freely when I know, that as you listen, it willseem to you of every word I am writing, that I am dragging a thirdperson into that which ought to be, most sacredly, between you and mealone. And yet, I must write freely; and I must make you fullyunderstand; because the whole of your future life and mine will dependupon your reply to this letter. I must write as if you were able tohold the letter in your own hands, and read it to yourself. Therefore,if you cannot completely trust your secretary, with the private historyof your heart and mine, bid her give it you back without turning thisfirst page; and let me come myself, Garth, and tell you all the rest."
"That is the bottom of the page," said Nurse Rosemary; and waited.
Garth did not remove his hand. "I do completely trust; and she must notcome," he said.
Nurse Rosemary turned the page, and went on reading.
"I want you to remember, Garth, that every word I write, is the simpleunvarnished truth. If you look back over your remembrance of me, youwill admit that I am not naturally an untruthful person, nor did I evertake easily to prevarication. But, Garth, I told you one lie; and thatfatal exception proves the rule of perfect truthfulness, which hasalways otherwise held, between you and me; and, please God, always willhold. The confession herein contained, concerns that one lie; and Ineed not ask you to realise how humbling it is to my pride to have toforce the hearing of a confession upon the man who has already refusedto admit me to a visit of friendship. You will remember that I am notnaturally humble; and have a considerable amount of proper pride; and,perhaps, by the greatness of the effort I have had to make, you will beable to gauge the greatness of my love. God help you to do so--mydarling; my beloved; my poor desolate boy!"
Nurse Rosemary stopped abruptly; for, at this sudden mention of love,and at these words of unexpected tenderness from Jane, Garth had risento his feet, and taken two steps towards the window; as if to escapefrom something too immense to be faced. But, in a moment he recoveredhimself, and sat down again, completely hiding his face with his hand.
Nurse Rosemary resumed the reading of the letter.
"Ah, what a wrong I have done, both to you, and to myself! Dear, youremember the evening on the terrace at Shenstone, when you asked me tobe--when you called me--when I WAS--YOUR WIFE? Garth, I leave this lastsentence as it stands, with its two attempts to reach the truth. I willnot cross them out, but leave them to be read to you; for, you seeGarth, I finally arrived! I WAS your wife. I did not understand itthen. I was intensely surprised; unbelievably inexperienced in mattersof feeling; and bewildered by the flood of sensation which swept me offmy feet and almost engulfed me. But even then I knew that my soul aroseand proclaimed you mate and master. And when you held me, and your dearhead lay upon my heart, I knew, for the first time the meaning of theword ecstasy; and I could have asked no kinder gift of heaven, than toprolong those moments into hours."
Nurse Rosemary's quiet voice broke, suddenly; and the reading ceased.
Garth was leaning forward, his head buried in his hands. A dry sob rosein his throat, just at the very moment when Nurse Rosemary's voice gaveway.
Garth recovered first. Without lifting his head, with a gesture ofprotective affection and sympathy, he stretched his hand across thetable.
"Poor little girl," he said, "I am so sorry. It is rough on you. Ifonly it had come when Brand was here! I am afraid you MUST go on; buttry to read without realising. Leave the realising to me."
And Nurse Rosemary read on.
"When you lifted your head in the moonlight and gazed long andearnestly at me--Ah, those dear eyes!--your look suddenly made meself-conscious. There swept over me a sense of my own exceedingplainness, and of how little there was in what those dear eyes saw, toprovide reason, for that adoring look. Overwhelmed with a shy shame Ipressed your head back to the place where the eyes would be hidden; andI realise now what a different construction you must have put upon thataction. Garth, I assure you, that when you lifted your head the secondtime, and said, 'My wife,' it was the first suggestion to my mind thatthis wonderful thing which was happening meant--marriage. I know itmust seem almost incredible, and more like a child of eighteen, than awoman of thirty. But you must remember, all my dealings with men up tothat hour had been handshakes, heartiest comradeship, and an occasionalclap on the shoulder given and received. And don't forget, dear King ofmy heart, that, until one short week before, you had been amongst theboys who called me 'good old Jane,' and addressed me in intimateconversation as 'my dear fellow'! Don't forget that I had always lookedupon you as YEARS younger than myself; and though a strangely sweet tiehad grown up between us, since the evening of the concert at Overdene,I had never realised it as love. Well--you will remember how I askedfor twelve hours to consider my answer; and you yielded, immediately;(you were so perfect, all the time, Garth) and left me, when I asked tobe alone; left me, with a gesture I have never forgotten. It was arevelation of the way in which the love of a man such as you exalts thewoman upon whom it is outpoured. The hem of that gown has been a sacredthing to me, ever since. It is always with me, though I never wearit.--A detailed account of the hours which followed, I shall hope togive you some day, my dearest. I cannot write it. Let me hurl on topaper, in all its crude ugliness, the miserable fact which parted us;turning our dawning joy to disillusion and sadness. Garth--it was this.I did not believe your love would stand the test of my plainness. Iknew what a worshipper of beauty you were; how you must have it, in oneform or another, always around you. I got out my diary in which I hadrecorded verbatim our conversation about the ugly preacher, whose facebecame illumined into beauty, by the inspired glory within. And youadded that you never thought him ugly again; but he would always beplain. And you said it was not the sort of face one would want to havealways before one at meals; but that you were not called upon toundergo that discipline, which would be she
er martyrdom to you."
"I was so interested, at the time; and so amused at the unconscious wayin which you stood and explained this, to quite the plainest woman ofyour acquaintance, that I recorded it very fully in my journal.--Alas!On that important night, I read the words, over and over, until theytook morbid hold upon my brain. Then--such is the self-consciousnessawakened in a woman by the fact that she is loved and sought--I turnedon all the lights around my mirror, and critically and carefullyexamined the face you would have to see every day behind yourcoffee-pot at breakfast, for years and years, if I said 'Yes,' on themorrow. Darling, I did not see myself through your eyes, as, thank God,I have done since. And I DID NOT TRUST YOUR LOVE TO STAND THE TEST. Itseemed to me, I was saving both of us from future disappointment andmisery, by bravely putting away present joy, in order to avoid certaindisenchantment. My beloved, it will seem to you so coolly calculating,and so mean; so unworthy of the great love you were even then lavishingupon me. But remember, for years, your remarkable personal grace andbeauty had been a source of pleasure to me; and I had pictured youwedded to Pauline Lister, for instance, in her dazzling whiteness, andsoft radiant youth. So my morbid self-consciousness said: 'What! Thisyoung Apollo, tied to my ponderous plainness; growing handsomer everyyear, while I grow older and plainer?' Ah, darling! It sounds sounworthy, now we know what our love is. But it sounded sensible andright that night; and at last, with a bosom that ached, and arms thathung heavy at the thought of being emptied of all that joy, I made upmy mind to say 'no.' Ah, believe me, I had no idea what it alreadymeant to you. I thought you would pass on at once to another fancy; andtransfer your love to one more able to meet your needs, at every point.Honestly, Garth, I thought I should be the only one leftdesolate.--Then came the question: how to refuse you. I knew if I gavethe true reason, you would argue it away, and prove me wrong, withglowing words, before which I should perforce yield. So--as I reallymeant not to let you run the risk, and not to run it myself--I lied toyou, my beloved. To you, whom my whole being acclaimed King of myheart, Master of my will; supreme to me, in love and life,--to YOU Isaid: 'I cannot marry a mere boy.' Ah, darling! I do not excuse it. Ido not defend it. I merely confess it; trusting to your generosity toadmit, that no other answer would have sent you away. Ah, your poorJane, left desolate! If you could have seen her in the little church,calling you back; retracting and promising; listening for yourreturning footsteps, in an agony of longing. But my Garth is not madeof the stuff which stands waiting on the door-mat of a woman'sindecision."
"The lonely year which followed so broke my nerve, that Deryck Brandtold me I was going all to pieces, and ordered me abroad. I went, asyou know; and in other, and more vigorous, surroundings, there came tome a saner view of life. In Egypt last March, on the summit of theGreat Pyramid, I made up my mind that I could live without you nolonger. I did not see myself wrong; but I yearned so for your love, andto pour mine upon you, my beloved, that I concluded it was worth therisk. I made up my mind to take the next boat home, and send for you.Then--oh, my own boy--I heard. I wrote to you; and you would not let mecome."
"Now I know perfectly well, that you might say: 'She did not trust mewhen I had my sight. Now that I cannot see, she is no longer afraid.'Garth, you might, say that; but it would not be true. I have had ampleproof lately that I was wrong, and ought to have trusted you allthrough. What it is, I will tell you later. All I can say now is: that,if your dear shining eyes could see, they would see, NOW, a woman whois, trustfully and unquestioningly, all your own. If she is doubtful ofher face and figure, she says quite simply: 'They pleased HIM; and theyare just HIS. I have no further right to criticise them. If he wantsthem, they are not mine, but his.' Darling, I cannot tell you now, howI have arrived at this assurance. But I have had proofs beyond words ofyour faithfulness and love."
"The question, therefore, simply resolves itself into this: Can youforgive me? If you can forgive me, I can come to you at once. If thisthing is past forgiveness, I must make up my mind to stay away. But,oh, my own Dear,--the bosom on which once you laid your head waits foryou with the longing ache of lonely years. If you need it, do notthrust it from you."
"Write me one word by your own hand: 'Forgiven.' It is all I ask. Whenit reaches me, I will come to you at once. Do not dictate a letter toyour secretary. I could not bear it. Just write--if you can truly writeit--'FORGIVEN'; and send it to 'Your Wife.'"
The room was very still, as Nurse Rosemary finished reading; and,laying down the letter, silently waited. She wondered for a momentwhether she could get herself a glass of water, without disturbing him;but decided to do without it.
At last Garth lifted his head.
"She has asked me to do a thing impossible," he said; and a slow smileillumined his drawn face.
Jane clasped her hands upon her breast.
"CAN you not write 'forgiven'?" asked Nurse Rosemary, brokenly.
"No," said Garth. "I cannot. Little girl, give me a sheet of paper, anda pencil."
Nurse Rosemary placed them close to his hand.
Garth took up the pencil. He groped for the paper; felt the edges withhis left hand; found the centre with his fingers; and, in large firmletters, wrote one word.
"Is that legible?" he asked, passing it across to Nurse Rosemary.
"Quite legible," she said; for she answered before it was blotted byher tears.
Instead of "forgiven," Garth had written: "LOVED."
"Can you post it at once?" Garth asked, in a low, eager voice. "And shewill come--oh, my God, she will come! If we catch to-night's mail, shemay be here the day after to-morrow!"
Nurse Rosemary took up the letter; and, by an almost superhuman effort,spoke steadily.
"Mr. Dalmain," she said; "there is a postscript to this letter. Itsays: 'Write to The Palace Hotel, Aberdeen.'"
Garth sprang up, his whole face and figure alive with excitement.
"In Aberdeen?" he cried. "Jane, in Aberdeen! Oh, my God! If she getsthis paper to-morrow morning, she may be here any time in the day.Jane! Jane! Dear little Rosemary, do you hear? Jane will cometo-morrow! Didn't I tell you something was going to happen? You andSimpson were too British to understand; but Margery knew; and the woodstold us it was Joy coming through Pain. Could that be posted at once,Miss Gray?"
The May-Day mood was upon him again. His face shone. His figure waselectric with expectation. Nurse Rosemary sat at the table watchinghim; her chin in her hands. A tender smile dawned on her lips, out ofkeeping with her supposed face and figure; so full was it of theglorious expectation of a mature and perfect love.
"I will go to the post-office myself, Mr. Dalmain," she said. "I shallbe glad of the walk; and I can be back by tea-time."
At the post-office she did not post the word in Garth's handwriting.That lay hidden in her bosom. But she sent off two telegrams. The firstto
The Duchess of Meldyum,
Palace Hotel, Aberdeen.
"Come here by 5.50 train without fail this evening."
The second to
Sir Deryck Brand,
Wimpole Sheet, London.
"All is right."
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