"Listen, Rona," he said. "I shall send you money whenever I can. At
first it will not be much. But as soon as I am in regular work, I
should like to send you enough to buy your own clothes, and so on--so
that you should not be beholden to these good people for absolutely
everything. I have brought you half a sovereign to-day, just for
pocket-money, and I shall send more at the first opportunity. That
will make me feel as if you were real--as if, one day, you really
would belong to me."
As he spoke, the church clock chimed a quarter to eight. In ten
minutes, folks would be coming out of church. Their enchanted
interview was almost over.
He looked at her with a kind of despair. "Rona, I must go! I never
thought that it could be as terrible as this to say good-by!"
She looked at him helplessly, her eyes swimming in tears.
--"And I have nothing to give you--nothing to offer but my wretched
self----"
He dived into his pocket, brought out a sixpence, and with a pair of
pocket-pliers, divided it neatly in two pieces. Then, with a piercer
in his pocket-knife, he drilled a tiny hole in each half, and made
her promise that she would suspend the charm about her own neck, as
he would about his--as the only tangible sign of their plighted vows.
There was but a moment, after this ceremony, to be spent in
leave-taking. Felix, to his own utter astonishment, broke down
completely.
"You'll be true to me, Rona--you won't fail me?" he gasped,
half-blinded by the choking tears; and Rona, with those tears wet
upon her cheek, promised, knowing no more than a kitten what she was
promising, nor why.
For one instant their lips were together, the young man trembling,
ashamed of his weakness, his hot heart filled with a surge of emotion
so unexpected as to be to him alarming; and then he was running from
her, not daring to look back, stumbling away in the evening dusk with
a heart more joyful, but with pangs more dire than he had imagined
possible.
And now the future lay before him, like the battle-field upon which
to-morrow's conflict should take place. To the old Felix he had
bidden farewell. He had now no mind to regenerate society, only to
make one woman happy. Rona, who knew the worst of him--Rona, who had
come to him at the moment when he touched bottom--Rona loved him.
Then to conquer the world was a mere detail. It could be done, and
he, Felix, was the man to do it.
* * * * * * *
In the course of the ensuing day, Miss Rawson received the following
letter.
It was typewritten, and dated from a London hotel.
"Miss Rawson (Private).
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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