“Now, come along home,” he says, flushing; “and hear what she’s got to
say about it all. Your defeat will pay you with her, if I know her,
better than any victory would. I only wish I was you, by golly!”
We reach the flat, and he leaves me to mount the stairs alone. There,
in the gorgeous drawing-room, ablaze with lights, I find her--a little
soft radiant figure, “born to consume the soil” and the bleeding
hearts of its labourers. I look round and about me with a renunciatory
laugh and shrug of my shoulders, and my eyes, bitter and defiant, come
back to her.
“Yes, Miss Christmas,” I say, “this is your proper setting. I have
lost my case.”
The vile brute in me--the vile brute! She does not answer a word; but,
with a quick sob, she wrenches the diamond from her bosom, the pearls
from her hair, and that falls and half veils her face. And the next
moment she is prostrate at my feet.
“Richard! I will be poor--O, I will be poor!”
Hush! Who is this come suddenly upon us from the shadows, where Ira,
hearing my step, had hidden her?
“Will you make my burden, Richard, more than I can bear?”
I turn in amazement. It is Lady Skene.
“I have dared much to come to you--to her,” she says, in a low
agitated voice. “I knew from my husband that you could never win--not
there--not in that Court. But here, Richard? O, it is great to be
generous in triumph, but greater in defeat.”
“Generous! What have I left to give in all the world?”
“Yourself.”
“Ira!” I cry, as if waking from a dream. “What have I been saying?
What wicked nonsense have I been talking? Why, what has all this to do
with you and me? Money and titles? I don’t remember their ever having
had anything to do with the understanding between us. Or had they? I
am stupid, and I can’t remember.”
“Richard!”
I am on my knees to her.
“What tomfoolery, of course. I can’t imagine what I was thinking of.
To quarrel with my own heart because it wouldn’t stop beating!”
I look round. Lady Skene has gone.
“Ira!” I cry once more--and heaven flows upon me under the tangle of
her hair.
ENVOI.
I have only a note or two to add, inessential but explanatory to the
curious.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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