Part 25 (2/2)
Her lover's neglect of the Sabbath was the next question, for Thora was a true and loving daughter of the Church of England. Episcopacy was the kernel of her faith. She believed all bishops were just like Bishop Hedley and that the most perfect happiness was found in the Episcopal Communion. And she said positively to her heart--”It is through the church door we will reach the Home door, and I am sure Ian will go with me to keep the Sabbath in the cathedral. Every one goes to church in Kirkwall. He could not resist such a powerful public example, and then he would begin to like to go of his own inclination.
I could trust him on this point, I feel sure.”
When she took up the next doubt her brow clouded and a shadow of annoyance blended itself with her anxious, questioning expression.
”His name!” she muttered. ”His name! Why did he woo me under a false name? Mother says my marriage to him under the name of Ian Macrae would not be lawful. Of course he intended to marry me with his proper name. He would have been sure to tell us all before the marriage day--but I saw father was angry and troubled at the circ.u.mstance. He ought to have told us long ago. Why didn't he do so? I should have loved him under any name. I should have loved him better under John than Ian. John is a strong, straight name. Great and good men in all ages have made John honourable. It has no diminutive. It can't be made less than John. Englishmen and lowland Scotch all say the four sensible letters with a firm, strong voice; only the Celt turns John into Ian. I will not call him Ian again. Not once will I do it.”
Then she covered her eyes with her hand and a sharp, chagrined catch of her breath broke the hush of the still room. And her voice, though little stronger than a whisper, was full of painful wonder. ”What will people say? What shall we say? Oh, the shame! Oh, the mortification!
Who will now live in my pretty home? Who will eat my wedding cake?
What will become of my wedding dress? Oh, Thora! Thora! Love has led thee a shameful, cruel road! What wilt thou do? What can thou do?”
Then a singular thing happened. A powerful thought from some forgotten life came with irresistible strength into her mind, and though she did not speak the words suggested, she prayed them--if prayer be that hidden, never-dying imploration that goes with the soul from one incarnation to another--for the words that sprang to her memory must have been learned centuries before, ”Oh, Mary! Mary! Mother of Jesus Christ! Thou that drank the cup of all a woman's griefs and wrongs, pray for me!”
And she was still and silent as the words pa.s.sed through her consciousness. She thought every one of them, they seemed at the moment so real and satisfying. Then she began to wonder and ask herself, ”Where did those words come from? When did I hear them? Where did I say them before? How do they come to be in my memory? From what strange depth of Life did they come? Did I ever have a Roman Catholic nurse? Did she whisper them to my soul, when I was sick and suffering?
I must ask mother--oh, how tired and sleepy I feel--I will go to bed--I have done no good, come to no decision. I will sleep--I will tell mother in the morning--I wish I had let her stop with me--mother always knows--what is the best way----” And thus the heart-breaking session ended in that blessed hostel, The Inn of Dreamless Sleep.
There was, however, little sleep in the House of Ragnor that night, and very early in the morning Ragnor, fully dressed, spoke to his wife. ”Art thou waking yet, Rahal?” he asked, and Rahal answered, ”I have slept little. I have been long awake.”
”Well then, what dost thou think now of Ian Macrae, so-called?”
”I think little amiss of him--some youthful follies--nothing to make a fuss about.”
”Hast thou considered that the follies of youth may become the follies of manhood, and of age? What then?”
”We are not told to worry about what may be.”
”Ian has evidently been living and spending with people far above his means and his cla.s.s.”
”The Lowland Scotch regard a minister as socially equal to any peer.
Are not the servants of G.o.d equal, and more than equal, to the servants of the queen? No society is above either they or their children. That I have seen always. And young men of fine appearance and charming manners, like Ian, are welcome in every home, high or low. Yes, indeed!”
”Yet girls, as a rule, should not marry handsome men with charming manners, unless there is something better behind to rely on.”
”If thou had not been a handsome man with a charming manner, Rahal would not have married thee. What then?”
”I would have been a ruined man. I cared for nothing but thee.”
”I believe that a girl of moral strength and good intelligence should be trusted with the choice of her destiny. It is not always that parents have a right to thrust a destiny they choose upon their daughter. If a man is not as good and as rich as they think she ought to marry they can point this out, and if they convince their child, very well; and if they do not convince her, also very well. Perhaps the girl's character requires just the treatment it will evolve from a life of struggle.”
”Thou art talking nonsense, Rahal. Thy liking for the young man has got the better of thy good sense. I cannot trust thee in this matter.”
”Well then, Coll, the road to better counsel than mine, is well known to thee.”
”I think Bishop Hedley arrived about an hour ago. There were moving lights on the pier, and as soon as the morning breaks I am going to see him.”
”Have thy own way. When a man's wife has not the wisdom wanted, it is well that he go to his Bishop, for Bishops are full of good counsel, even for the ruling of seven churches, so I have heard.”
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