Part 19 (1/2)
she continued. ”I need one, a big, strong man whom I can trust, whom I know to be my loyal friend and my husband's friend.”
He put out his hand, shame and love mingling in his face.
”I will be that friend, Claire,” he said, earnestly.
She took his hand, her mind breaking with relief. She felt she was going to cry, and she leaned forward to hide her filling eyes.
”Oh, Philip, G.o.d bless you! You do not know what this means to me! You will never know. I thank you, I thank you!”
The tears rushed down her cheeks and dropped upon their clasped hands.
”Claire, don't, please--please don't,” Philip pleaded, anguish in his tone.
She stopped, forced back her sobs, and smiled at him.
”Philip Ortez,” she said, ”I shall make you glad of this.”
Deep in his heart, the words gave him hope. He grasped at them as a drowning man at a life-belt, but he did not voice the hope.
”I want to spend much of my time with you, Philip, in the out-of-doors.
I must do it, and it is such a relief to know that I can do it without--without fear. You will be just my friend, won't you?”
”If it is in my power, I will.” He spoke as a knight of old, taking a holy vow, and in his heart was the deep, sacred sense of the spirit that still moved in his idealistic soul.
Claire laughed joyously, almost hysterically, with the peace that came over her at the sound of his words. She was sure that all was well. If she had known that already he was building on the promise of frequent days alone, she would have been more afraid than ever. But she did not know that, neither did she know that in her very promise she was preparing a more difficult situation for her own struggle with herself than any she had ever faced in her life. She was only aware of the crisis pa.s.sed and the peace that was now hers.
”Let us go back,” she said gaily.
They found Lawrence smoothing his little carved child with a stone.
Claire was effervescent with joy. Her great plan seemed sure of success, and she greeted him with a gaiety that was as abnormal as her despondency had been before.
”Lawrence,” she cried, ”we have had such a walk! And here you have finished for us this beautiful cherub as the symbol of our little home.”
Her words stung him with savage pain, filling him with a great fear born of love and jealousy. For a minute he did not know what he was doing or saying, and he was scarcely aware of the words that fell from him.
”Cherubs are said to be symbols of the greatest love.” He laughed tonelessly. ”It belongs to you, Claire. Take it.”
The child was carved standing upon a stump with wings outspread. In the form and face of the figure there was so much of benevolence, love, and charity that the imaginative power of this blind artist filled Claire with awe. She stood reverently before it, her heart singing with pride in the handiwork of the man she loved. She interpreted his words as a confession that he had carved it for her as a symbol of his love, and she was humbled before him, before his work. She wanted to throw herself in his arms and to tell him with the gift of her unreserved self how grateful she was for his gift, but she only said, very softly, taking both his hands: ”Thank you, Lawrence.”
The words struck his ear with a strangely mixed power in their sound. He wanted to laugh at the bitter mockery that swept into him. He had made the image for love of her, and he presented it to her as a symbol of her love for Philip. It was cruel, but he could endure it. Oh, yes, he was accustomed to life's little jokes. He did not answer her thanks, only gripped her hands in his own capable ones till he hurt her.
To Philip, the child brought still other suggestions. Moved by his present feeling of great, chivalrous guardians.h.i.+p of the woman who had said she needed him, he felt that it was a symbol of the great sacrificial love which he was privileged to know, and at the same time he felt that it was a symbol of hope.
TO BE CONTINUED NEXT WEEK. Don't forget this magazine is issued weekly, and that you will get the continuation of this story without waiting a month.