Part 35 (1/2)
To Camelia the words could only mean that he forgave--and loved--as Mary did; but she felt the deep peace of truest union.
”Then she is dying in the suns.h.i.+ne, isn't she?” he added, ”not in that horrible darkness.”
”Yes--but such a cold, white suns.h.i.+ne. It is because she feels no longer. It is peace--not happiness; just 'peace out of pain.'”
”And cannot we two doubters add, 'With G.o.d be the rest'?”
”We must add it. To hope so strongly--is almost to believe, isn't it?
Come to her now.”
She left him at Mary's door.
The nurse, with her face of hardened patience, rose as he entered.
”I will leave you with Miss Fairleigh, sir. Call me if I am needed.”
Her look was significant.
Perior felt his heart shake a little as he went round the white curtain.
He was afraid. If he should blunder--stab the ebbing life with some stupidity! Something of this tender fear showed in his look at the dying girl, and the fear deepened for a moment to acutest pain at sight of her. Was that the Mary he had last seen sitting over the account books?--the Mary he had fatuously told to keep cheerful? Remorse wrung his heart. But as for the fear of hurting her, Mary was very far beyond all little mundane tremors, and they faded away, ashamed for having been, as he clasped her hand, and met her eyes; their still smile quieted even his pain, and wrapped him in its awe and beauty.
He sat down beside her, keeping her hand in his.
”Dear Mary,” he said.
For a long time she did not speak; indeed Perior thought that she might not wish to employ the coa.r.s.er medium of communication, could not, perhaps; her eyes, as they rested upon him, seemed amply significant; but he could not fathom, quite, their ultimate meaning. Perhaps a great sadness underlay their calm. But at last, very faintly and very slowly she said--
”You saw Camelia.”
”Yes.”
”You know--that I was--cruel to Camelia?”
”No, I did not know.”
”I was.”
”I cannot believe that, Mary.”
”I was, I misjudged her. I struck her. She did not tell you that?”
”No,” said Perior, after the little pause his surprise allowed itself.
”I did, I struck her,” Mary repeated, with a certain placidity. ”You understand?” she added.
Perior was putting two and two together; the result was clearly comprehensible.
”Yes, I understand,” he said.
”Camelia understood too.”