Birdwood looked round the lawn, seeming to imply that, such was Guy's
liberty of behaviour, he half expected to see it floating on the
lily-pond.
"Where is it then?" he asked.
Guy took him through the paddock to where the canoe lay on the
mill-stream.
"Handy little weapon," Birdwood commented.
"Well, I'll see you later, I expect," said Guy embarking again. "I'm
coming to breakfast at the Rectory."
"Yes, sir," the gardener answered cheerfully. "In about another hour and
a half I shall be looking for the eggs."
Guy waved his hand and shot out into midstream where he drifted idly.
Should he go to church this morning? Pauline must have wanted him to
come, or she would not have told him in her note that she was going.
They had never discussed the question of religion. Tacitly he had let it
be supposed he believed in her simple creed, and he knew his appearance
of faith had given pleasure to the family as well as to Pauline herself.
Was he being very honest with her or with them? Certainly when he knelt
at the back of the church and saw Pauline as he had seen her on Easter
Day, it was not hard to believe in divinity. But he did not carry away
Pauline's faith to cheer his own secret hours. The thought of herself
was always with him, but her faith remained as a kind of vision upon
which he was privileged to gaze on those occasions when, as it were, she
made of it a public confession. Had he really any right to intrude upon
such sanctities as hers would be to-day? No doubt every birthday morning
she went to church, and the strangeness of his presence seemed almost an
unhallowing of such rites. Even to attend her birthday breakfast began
to appear unjustifiable, as he thought of all the birthday breakfasts
that for so many years had passed by without him and without any idea
of there ever being any necessity for him. No doubt this morning he,
miserable and unworthy sceptic, would be dowered with the half of her
prayers, and in that consciousness could he bear to accept them,
kneeling at the back of the church, unless he believed utterly they were
sanctified by something more than her own maidenhood? Yet if he did not
go to church, Pauline would be disappointed, because she would surely
expect him. She would be like the blessed damozel leaning out from the
gold bar of Heaven and weeping because he did not come. There was no
gain from honesty, if she were made miserable by it. It were better a
thousand times he should kneel humbly at the back of the church and pray
for the faith that was hers. And why could he not believe as she
believed? If her faith were true, he suffered from injustice by having
no grace accorded to him. Or did there indeed lie between him and her
the impassable golden bar of Heaven? A cloud swept across the morning
sun, and Guy shivered. Then the church-bell began to clang and, urging
his canoe towards the churchyard, he jumped ashore and knelt at the back
of the church.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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