England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Lawyers -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Young men -- Fiction
"Us! Us! I begin to feel as if I'd run away from you too, Arthur! Though
I wasn't your wife, or your mother--or even your chaperon, was I? Well,
at the end I did run away a little sooner because of you--you'd found me
out!--but I don't think I meant to run away from you for ever. But you
belong to Hilsey now--so it seems as if it was for ever. I ran away for
ever from Hilsey, all Hilsey--and now you're part of it!"
She was standing opposite to him, with a smile that seemed half to tease
him, half to deride herself. She did not seek to hide her sorrow and
vexation at losing him; she hardly pretended not to be jealous--he could
think her jealous if he liked! Her old sincerity abode with her; she had
no tricks.
She looked very charming in his eyes; her sorrow at losing her--he did
not know what to call it, but whatever it was that she used to get from
his society and his adoration--touched him profoundly. He took one of
her gloved hands and raised it to his lips. She looked up at him; her
eyes were dim.
"It's turned out rather harder in some ways than I thought it
would--making quite a fresh start, I mean. I do miss the old things and
the old friends dreadfully. But it's worth it. It was the only thing for
me. There was nothing else left to do. I had to do it."
"You're the only judge," he said gently. "Thank God it's turned out
right for you!"
She smiled under her dim eyes. "Did you think I should repent? Like
those frogs--you remember?--in the fable. King Stork instead of King
Log?" She laughed. "It's not like that." She paused a moment. "And
Oliver and I aren't to be alone together, I think, Cousin Arthur."
He sought for words, but she put her slim fingers lightly on his lips.
"Hush! I don't want to cry. Take me to a taxi--Quickly!"
She spoke no more to him--nor he to her, save to whisper, with a last
clasp of her hand before she drove away, "God bless you!"
CHAPTER XXXVI
IN THE SPRING
Yes, it was all true! The events of that Red Letter Day had really
happened. When Arthur awoke the next morning, he had a queer feeling of
its all being a dream, a mirage born of ambition. No. The morning paper
proved it; a glance at his own table added confirmation.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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