Part 54 (1/2)

”Oh, I am very glad to see you. Come and sit down.”

”You are not too busy for a little talk?”

”Not at all.”

She wheeled the leather-covered chair a little nearer to the fire, and made him sit down on it. He cast his eye round the cheery room, noting the books and papers that she was using, the evidences of steady work and thought. The firelight leaped and glanced on the ruddy walls, and the coals crackled in the grate; a dash of rain against the window, a blast of wind in the distance, emphasized the contrast between the warmth and light and restfulness within the house, the coldness and the storm without.

Alan held his hands to the blaze, and listened for a moment to the wind before he spoke.

”One does not feel inclined,” he said, ”to turn out on such a day as this.”

”Happily, you have no need to turn out,” Lettice answered, taking his words in their most literal sense.

”Not to day, perhaps; but very soon. Lettice, the time has come when we must decide on our next step. I cannot stay here any longer--on our present terms, at least. But I have not come to say good-bye. Is there any reason why I should say good-bye--save for a time?”

He had risen from his chair as he spoke, and was standing before her.

Lettice shaded her eyes with her hands. Ah, if she could only give way to the temptation which she felt vaguely aware that he was going to raise! If she could only be weak in spite of her resolution to be strong, if she could only take to herself at once the one consolation and partners.h.i.+p which would satisfy her soul, how instantly would her depression pa.s.s away! How easily with one word could she change the whole current and complexion of life for the man who was bending over her! He was still only half-redeemed from ruin; he might fall a prey to despair again, if she shrank in the supreme moment from the sacrifice demanded of her.

Alan did not know how her heart was pleading for him. Something, indeed, he divined, as he saw her trembling and shaken by the strife within. His heart bounded with sudden impulse from every quickened vein, and his lips drew closer to her hidden face.

”Lettice!”

There was infinite force and tenderness in the whispered word, and it pierced her to the quick. She dropped her hands, and looked up.

But one responsive word or glance, and he would have taken her in his arms. He understood her face, her eyes, too well to do it. She gave him no consent; if he kissed her, if he pressed her to his breast, he felt that he should dominate her body only, not her soul. And he was not of that coa.r.s.e fibre which could be satisfied so. If Lettice did not give herself to him willingly, she must not give herself at all.

”Lettice!” he said again, and there was less pa.s.sion but more entreaty in his tone than before he met that warning glance, ”will you not let me speak?”

”Is there anything for us to say,” she asked, very gently, ”except _good-bye_?”

”Would you turn me away into the cold from the warmth and brightness of your home, Lettice? Don't be angry with me for saying so. I have had very little joy or comfort in my life of late, and it is to you that I owe all that I know of consolation. You have rescued me from a very h.e.l.l of despair and darkness, and brought me into paradise. Now do you bid me go? Lettice, it would be cruel. Tell me to stay with you ... and to the last hour of my life I will stay.”

He was standing beside her, with one hand on the wooden arm of her circular chair. She put her hand over his fingers almost caressingly, and looked up at him again, with tears in her sweet eyes.

”Have I not done what I wanted to do?” she said. ”I found you weak, friendless, ill; you have got back your strength, and you know that you have at least one friend who will be faithful to you. My task is done; you must go away now and fight the world--for my sake.”

”For your sake? You care what I do, then: Lettice, you care for me? Tell me that you love me--tell me, at last!”

She was silent for a moment, and he felt that the hand which rested on his own fluttered as if it would take itself away. Was she offended?

Would she withdraw the mute caress of that soft pressure? Breathlessly he waited. If she took her hand away, he thought that he should almost cease to hope.

But the hand settled once more into its place. It even tightened its pressure upon his fingers as she replied--

”I love you with all my heart,” she said; ”and it is just because I love you that I want you to go away.”

With a quick turn of his wrist he seized the hand that had hitherto lain on his, and carried it to his lips. They looked into each other's eyes with the long silent look which is more expressive even than a kiss.

Soul draws very near to soul when the eyes of man and woman meet as theirs met then. The lips did not meet, but Alan's face was very close to hers. When the pause had lasted so long that Lettice's eyelids drooped, and the spell of the look was broken, he spoke again.

”Why should I go away? Why should the phantom of a dead past divide us?

We belong to one another, you and I. Think of what life might mean to us, side by side, hand in hand, working, striving together, you the stronger, giving me some of your strength, I ready to give you the love you need--the love you have craved for--the love that you have won!