Australia -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Melbourne (Vic.) -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
"Oh," he said in a sort of groaning whisper, drawing a long hard breath,
"oh, my little one, isn't it hard lines!"
"Don't," she gasped, feeling that clutch on her throat tighten with a
sudden spasm; "oh, Roden, don't!"
And he straightened himself quickly, and sat back in his chair. And the
organ began to play again--a stately march of Schubert's, which acted
like a tonic on her disordered nerves, and as a sedative to the
hysterical excitement that for a moment had threatened to overmaster
her.
The echoes of that march rang in her ears, when Roden was gone back to
Queensland and this chapter of her life was finished, for many a long
day.
And then at last the thunders of the National Anthem brought the
performance to a close, and the audience trooped out, casting curious
glances as they went at the distinguished-looking couple standing
conspicuously apart--the tall stranger with the peculiar moustache, who
had soldier and gentleman written on him from head to foot, and the
graceful young lady with the lovely complexion and the irreproachable
French dress, whom nobody "who was anybody" failed to recognise.
The two were left together amongst all the empty chairs, in a silence
that was hardly broken by the organist's movements at the far end of
the hall, closing the stops and keys of his enormous instrument.
"Well," said Mr. Dalrymple, looking down upon his companion, who lifted
to his sombre eyes a pale but solemn face, "well--so this is all, I
suppose!"
Her lips twitched a little; she could not answer him.
"You are not sorry that I came, are you, Rachel? It will not make it
harder for you, will it?"
"Oh, _no_, Roden! But it is _you_ on whom it is so hard--you will be so
lonely without me! I can't bear to think what I have brought on you--and
you had so many troubles already!"
"Not you, dear--not you. And I can bear all my part of it, if only
things go well with you."
"Why did you break that trace?" she exclaimed, with a touch of bitter
passion. "But for that--but for two minutes lost--you would never have
seen me, and then I should never have spoiled your life like this."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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