Part 10 (2/2)
”All right,” said Garth, ”all right. But you will come out here this evening, Miss Champion? And you will give me as long as I want?”
”I will come as soon as we can possibly escape,” replied Jane; ”and you cannot be more anxious to tell me everything than I am to hear it. Oh!
the scent of these magnolias! And just look at the great white trumpets! Would you like one for your b.u.t.tonhole?”
He gave her a wistful, whimsical little smile; then turned and went indoors.
”Why do I feel so inclined to tease him?” mused Jane, as she moved, from the window. ”Really it is I who have been silly this time; and he, staid and sensible. Myra is quite right. He is taking it very seriously. And how about her? Ah! I hope she cares enough, and in the right way.--Come in, Matthews! And you can put out the gown I wore on the night of the concert at Overdene, and we must make haste. We have just twenty minutes. What a lovely evening! Before you do anything else, come and see this sunset on the lake. Ah! it is good to be here!”
CHAPTER X
THE REVELATION
All the impatience in the world could not prevent dinner at Shenstone from being a long function, and two of the most popular people in the party could not easily escape afterwards unnoticed. So a distant clock in the village was striking ten, as Garth and Jane stepped out on to the terrace together. Garth caught up a rug in pa.s.sing, and closed the door of the lower hall carefully behind him.
They were quite alone. It was the first time they had been really alone since these days apart, which had seemed so long to both.
They walked silently, side by side, to the wide stone parapet overlooking the old-fas.h.i.+oned garden. The silvery moonlight flooded the whole scene with radiance. They could see the stiff box-borders, the winding paths, the queerly shaped flower-beds, and, beyond, the lake, like a silver mirror, reflecting the calm loveliness of the full moon.
Garth spread the rug on the coping, and Jane sat down. He stood beside her, one foot on the coping, his arms folded across his chest, his head erect. Jane had seated herself sideways, turning towards him, her back to an old stone lion mounting guard upon the parapet; but she turned her head still further, to look down upon the lake, and she thought Garth was looking in the same direction.
But Garth was looking at Jane.
She wore the gown of soft trailing black material she had worn at the Overdene concert, only she had not on the pearls or, indeed, any ornament save a cl.u.s.ter of crimson rambler roses. They nestled in the soft, creamy old lace which covered the bosom of her gown. There was a quiet strength and n.o.bility about her att.i.tude which thrilled the soul of the man who stood watching her. All the adoring love, the pa.s.sion of wors.h.i.+p, which filled his heart, rose to his eyes and shone there. No need to conceal it now. His hour had come at last, and he had nothing to hide from the woman he loved.
Presently she turned, wondering why he did not begin his confidences about Pauline Lister. Looking up inquiringly, she met his eyes.
”Dal!” cried Jane, and half rose from her seat. ”Oh, Dal,--don't!”
He gently pressed her back. ”Hush, dear,” he said. ”I must tell you everything, and you have promised to listen, and to advise and help.
Ah, Jane, Jane! I shall need your help. I want it so greatly, and not only your help, Jane--but YOU--you, yourself. Ah, how I want you! These three days have been one continual ache of loneliness, because you were not there; and life began to live and move again, when you returned.
And yet it has been so hard, waiting all these hours to speak. I have so much to tell you, Jane, of all you are to me--all you have become to me, since the night of the concert. Ah, how can I express it? I have never had any big things in my life; all has been more or less trivial--on the surface. This need of you--this wanting you--is so huge. It dwarfs all that went before; it would overwhelm all that is to come,--were it not that it will be the throne, the crown, the summit, of the future.--Oh, Jane! I have admired so many women. I have raved about them, sighed for them, painted them, and forgotten them. But I never LOVED a woman before; I never knew what womanhood meant to a man, until I heard your voice thrill through the stillness--'I count each pearl.' Ah, beloved, I have learned to count pearls since then, precious hours in the past, long forgotten, now remembered, and at last understood. 'Each hour a pearl, each pearl a prayer,' ay, a pa.s.sionate plea that past and present may blend together into a perfect rosary, and that the future may hold no possibility of pain or parting. Oh, Jane--Jane! Shall I ever be able to make you understand--all--how much--Oh, JANE!”
She was not sure just when he had come so near; but he had dropped on one knee in front of her, and, as he uttered the last broken sentences, he pa.s.sed both his arms around her waist and pressed his face into the soft lace at her bosom. A sudden quietness came over him. All struggling with explanations seemed hushed into the silence of complete comprehension--an all-pervading, enveloping silence.
Jane neither moved nor spoke. It was so strangely sweet to have him there--this whirlwind of emotion come home to rest, in a great stillness, just above her quiet heart. Suddenly she realised that the blank of the last three days had not been the miss of the music, but the miss of HIM; and as she realised this, she unconsciously put her arms about him. Sensations unknown to her before, awoke and moved within her,--a heavenly sense of aloofness from the world, the loneliness of life all swept away by this dear fact--just he and she together. Even as she thought it, felt it, he lifted his head, still holding her, and looking into her face, said: ”You and I together, my own--my own.”
But those beautiful s.h.i.+ning eyes were more than Jane could bear. The sense of her plainness smote her, even in that moment; and those adoring eyes seemed lights that revealed it. With no thought in her mind but to hide the outward part from him who had suddenly come so close to the shrine within, she quickly put both hands behind his head and pressed his face down again, into the lace at her bosom. But, to him, those dear firm hands holding him close, by that sudden movement, seemed an acceptance of himself and of all he had to offer. For ten, twenty, thirty exquisite seconds, his soul throbbed in silence and rapture beyond words. Then he broke from the pressure of those restraining hands; lifted his head, and looked into her face once more.
”My wife!” he said.
Into Jane's honest face came a look of startled wonder; then a deep flush, seeming to draw all the blood, which had throbbed so strangely through her heart, into her cheeks, making them burn, and her heart die within her. She disengaged herself from his hold, rose, and stood looking away to where the still waters of the lake gleamed silver in the moonlight.
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