Part 32 (1/2)

CHAPTER XVIII

My father kept on holding my hand. We neither of us spoke; there are moments when words fail us, and these happened to be some. The sun crept higher and higher in the heavens, it beat down on us, but it was tempered by the pleasant, cool sea breezes. We were both looking into the future, and, truth to tell, our hearts were sad. I was making up my mind, and father was making up his mind. At last I, being the younger and more impulsive, spoke:

”It is all right, Daddy,” I said. ”It was a bit of a dreadful shock; I don't pretend it was anything else. I have always put you--oh, on such a pedestal! But I'll get used to it. You were tempted awfully, or you would never have done it. I am certain of that, and--I have never been tempted at all, so, of course, I can't understand. You were tempted, poor darling, and it--it happened. It is hateful of people to stamp on you, and crush you when you're down; but I suppose it is something horrid inside of them makes them do it. Daddy, I'm not made like that.

I couldn't stamp on you--I couldn't crush you. On the contrary, I have made up my mind. You and I against the world, Daddy mine, against the whole wide world. You won't return to London to-night; you'll stay here, and you'll write to Lady Helen, and you'll tell her that you and I have escaped from the worst prison, and are going to live always together, and that we aren't a bit afraid of poverty, and that, in short, we've made up our minds. We've cut the Gordian knot. We'll be happy together, and we don't care a sc.r.a.p about poverty.”

”That's your firm resolve, is it, Heather?” said my father.

”It is. I have been thinking it out--I can't get away from it.”

”All right. Give me a kiss, child.”

I put my arms round him, and kissed him many times. Again I noticed that there wasn't a bit of shame in his eyes; they looked quite clear, and steadfast, and blue, with that wonderful blue light which I think only comes into the eyes of men who are accustomed to face the sea and the wind, and who have lived a great deal out of doors.

”So that is your final decision?” he repeated. ”I like to feel your kisses on my cheek, Heather.”

I kissed him again.

”It is,” I said.

”Well, now you've to hear mine.”

”Oh, yours,” I said; ”you won't go away from your own Heather--you couldn't--you love her too well.”

”G.o.d knows I love you, pretty one. You are the only creature on earth I do love. I love you with all my heart and soul, and that's saying a great deal. For the ten long years I was in prison I kept thinking and thinking of you, child. But for you I might have lost my reason; but your little face, and your ways, and your love for me kept me--well, all right. And now I am a free man again--I mean, I am free to claim your love. But you haven't decided what part Carbury is to play in this.”

I s.h.i.+vered very slightly.

”I have told you,” I said. ”He won't play any part. I--I'm going to write to him. We need not talk about him any more. Yesterday you and my stepmother were opposed to my marrying him; now I also am opposed. There will be no marriage between us. I am all yours.”

”Oh, you best child in all the world!”

”Then it's settled, isn't it, Daddy?”

”My little girl, I can't tell. It rests with Carbury himself. But my part--you've got to hear my part now.”

I felt very, very sad when he said this. I seemed to guess in advance that a great strain and trial was about to be put upon me. My father looked at me, and then he looked away. Again he took up some great, full bells of heather and crushed them in his hand; he threw them away and turned and faced me.

”There! The worst is out. I have got to stay with her ladys.h.i.+p.”

”Father!”

”Yes. I can't get away from it, Heather child. I can't live on nothing, nor, my little girl, can you. We are both dependent on Lady Helen for our daily bread.”

”I am not--I won't be,” I said.

”But you are,” he answered, ”and you must be; that's just it. You can't get away from it. She holds the purse. Do you think she will unfasten those purse strings to give you and me an allowance to live away from her?”

”But we can live on so little,” I said; ”and I can work. I should love to work.”