Part 80 (1/2)
”Glory!”
”My love! my love!”
”And you,” he said, close to her lips, ”are you ready for anything?”
”Anything,” she whispered.
At the next moment she was holding herself off with her arms stiff about his neck, that she might look at him and at her lace sleeves at the same time. Suddenly a furrow crossed his brow. He had remembered the Father's warning, and was summoning all his strength.
”But out there I'll love you as a sister, Glory.”
”Ah!”
”For the sake of those poor doomed beings cut off from earthly love we'll love each other as the angels love.”
”Yes, that is the highest, purest, truest love, no doubt. Still----”
”What does the old Talmud say?--'He who divorces himself from the joys of earth weds himself to the glories of Paradise.'”
Her lashes were still wet; she was gazing deep into his eyes.
”And to think of being united in the next world, Glory--what happiness, what ecstasy!”
”Love me in this world, dearest,” she whispered.
”You'll be their youth, Glory, their strength, their loveliness!”
”Be mine, darling, be mine!”
But the furrow crossed his brow a second time, and he disengaged himself before their lips had met again. Then he walked about the room as before, talking in broken sentences. They would have to leave soon--very soon--almost at once. And now he must go back to Soho. There was so much to do, to arrange. On reaching the door he hesitated, quivering with love, hardly knowing how to part from her. She was standing with head down, half angry and half ashamed.
”Well, _au revoir_,” he cried in a strained voice, and then fled down the stairs. ”The Father was right,” he thought. ”No man is invincible.
But, thank G.o.d, it is over! It can never occur again!”
Her glow had left her, and she felt chilled and lost There was no help for it now, and escape was impossible. She must renounce everything for the man who had renounced everything for her. Sitting on the couch, she dropped her head on the cus.h.i.+on and cried like a child. In the lowest depths of her soul she knew full well that she could never go away, but she began to bid good-bye in her heart to the life she had been living.
The charm and fascination of London began to pa.s.s before her like a panorama, with all the scenes of misery and squalor left out. What a beautiful world she was leaving behind her! She would remember it all her life long with useless and unending regret. Her tears were flowing through the fingers which were clasped beneath her face.
A postman's knock came to the door downstairs. The letter was from the manager, written in the swirl and rush of theatrical life, and reading like a telegram: ”Theatre going on rapidly, men working day and night, rehearsals advanced and scenery progressing; might we not fix this day fortnight for the first performance?”
Inclosed with this was a letter from the author: ”You are on the eve of an extraordinary success, dear Gloria, and I write to rea.s.sure and congratulate you. Some signs of inexperience I may perhaps observe, some lack of ease and simplicity, but already it is a performance of so much pa.s.sion and power that I predict for it a triumphant success. A great future awaits you. Don't shrink from it, don't be afraid of it; it is as certain as that the sun will rise to-morrow.”
She carried the letter to her lips, then rose from the couch, and threw up her head, closed her eyes, and smiled. The visionary woman was taking hold of her again with the slow grip and embrace of the glacier.
Rosa came home to dine, and at sight of the new costume she cried, ”Shade of t.i.tian, what a picture!” During dinner she mentioned that she had met Mr. Drake, who had said that the Prince was likely to be present at the production, having asked for the date and other particulars.
”But haven't you heard the _great_ news, dear? It's in all the late editions of the evening papers.”
”What is it?” said Glory; but she saw what was coming.
”Father Storm is to follow Father Damien. That's the report, at all events; but he is expected to make a statement at his club to-night, and I have to be there for the paper.”