Part 13 (1/2)

”You think I can give him up? You think it's possible? Love ... the only thing I want! The thing I've never had! Happiness... Why should you ruin our happiness? You've had yours. Oh, you're selfish. I shan't give him up if he wants me. Ask him yourself if he loves me... Ah, you're afraid. You daren't. You daren't!”

She almost laughed, and Mrs. Payne knew that she had spoken the truth.

It looked, for a moment, as if she were going to be beaten on this point, for Gabrielle s.n.a.t.c.hed at her weakness, repeating the unanswerable ”You daren't!” Then, suddenly, without any warning, the girl's triumphant spirit collapsed. From the verge of laughter she toppled over into tears. She put her hands to her eyes and then, turning her back on Mrs.

Payne, collapsed on her bed, weeping bitterly.

At the sight of this thankfulness flooded Mrs. Payne's heart; but beneath this dominant emotion, which came almost as the result of her conscious wish, flowed another that she would gladly have suppressed: pity, nothing less, for the child who lay sobbing on the bed. A minute before she had seen in Gabrielle her most dangerous enemy in the world; now, even though she rejoiced in the girl's sudden collapse, she felt that she wanted to take her in her arms and kiss her and comfort her. For a moment or two she fought against it, but in the end, scarcely knowing what she had done, she found that she was fondling Gabrielle's hand and being shaken by the communicated pa.s.sion of her sobs. One thought kept running through her brain: ”I've won ... I've won, and can afford to be generous,” and this, together with the curious physical liking that she had always felt for Gabrielle, disarmed her. She set herself to comforting the child. It was the last thing in the world she had intended to do, but it came natural to her motherly soul. She was glad, indeed, that Gabrielle did not resent these attentions, as she very well might have done. Gradually her sobbing ceased and she began to speak, clinging all the time to Mrs. Payne, herself not guiltless of a sympathetic tear, while she told her the story of her early years: of the wild life she had led at Roscarna, of Jocelyn's debauches and Biddy's rough mothering.

It was the first time that all this flood of reminiscence had been loosed. Gabrielle had never made a confidante before, and it was an ecstasy of tears and laughter to dwell upon these memories, and to rehea.r.s.e them. ”I was so happy as a child,” she said, ”so awfully happy.

But now there's nothing left.”

Mrs. Payne, still sympathetic, found herself suddenly plunged into the ardours of the Radway affair; the miraculous meeting on the Clonderriff road; the halcyon days of August, and then the overwhelming tragedy.

”They made me marry him,” said Gabrielle, clutching at her hand. ”They made me. I didn't understand. It was cruel. It would have been better if I had died like my baby.”

She relapsed into tears, and Mrs. Payne, quite bowled over by the piteousness of her case, tried to soothe her with caresses. It was a curious end, she reflected, to the punitive expedition on which she had set forth. Holding Gabrielle triumphantly in her arms she did not realize the mistake that she had made. It wasn't the end at all, it was merely the beginning.

”You see what a terrible time I've had,” Gabrielle pleaded, drying her tears. ”I always felt that you were the only person I could talk to about these things. I knew you would sympathize ... you're so human.

Now you can understand why I can't live without Arthur. Do you see?”

She looked up, pleading, into Mrs. Payne's eyes.

Her quiet words staggered that good woman. She had to pull herself together and begin all over again. It wasn't easy, for the sympathetic mood into which the girl's story had betrayed her had subtly weakened her purpose. She felt that her position was false. She must rea.s.sert herself, and so she hurriedly freed herself from Gabrielle's arms and stood with her back to the door. Gabrielle too rose and faced her. Her tears had put an end to the dreamy mood in which Mrs. Payne had found her at first. Now she was determined, dangerous, ready to fight with all the quickness of her wits and the suppleness of her youth against the elder woman's dogged devotion. They faced one another, ready to fight to the end, for the possession of the thing they each loved best, and both of them realized the bitter nature of the struggle.

”We can't speak of that again,” said Mrs. Payne. ”I thought that was understood. Surely you didn't imagine that by playing on my feelings you could make me change my mind? I'm sorry you misunderstood me. I will write to your husband to-morrow. For Arthur's sake I hope you won't tell him the real explanation of your going back, and of Arthur's staying here. I think you owe that to us ... even if you don't realise that it's also the best for yourself.” She turned towards the door. ”I think we had better say good-night. There is a train at seven-fifty in the morning. I'm sorry it's so early, but there's no other. As I may not see you again I'll say good-bye now. There's no reason why we shouldn't part friends.”

She held out her hand, she couldn't think why, but as she did so Gabrielle clasped it. ”No ... don't go!” she pleaded.

”There's nothing more to be said.” But Gabrielle still held her hand and would not let it go.

”Only be merciful to me,” she cried. ”Let us think about it. There must be some other way. Supposing ... supposing that we go back to Lapton just in the ordinary way: supposing that I promise you faithfully that nothing more shall happen. Listen, we never, never kissed before to-night. I'll give you my word of honour that it shan't happen again ... if only you'll let him go back to us. Isn't that fair? Surely it's fair....”

Mrs. Payne shook her head.

”You mean that you don't believe me ... you won't trust me?”

”I can't trust both of you. Do you think I don't know what love is?”

”But think ... think of all these months in which we've been so happy together without a word of love! I love him ... you know I love him ...

I believe I love him more than you do. No, don't be angry with me for saying that! Don't you think my love is strong enough to prevent me from doing anything that could possibly harm him? Can't you believe that?”

”No ... it's too dangerous. You can answer for yourself, but you can't answer for Arthur.”

”Oh, if you loved him as you say you do ... as I believe you do ...

wouldn't you trust him? I'll talk to him. I can tell him anything.

I'll tell him exactly how things stand. I'll tell him what I've promised you. Only don't take him away from me altogether. I couldn't bear it ... I couldn't.” She turned back on herself. ”Why won't you believe in him?”

”You should know why that's impossible. Haven't I told you his history?

You've only known him for a year. I've had him for seventeen and loved him all the time.” She became almost pa.s.sionate. ”He's my son. And all those years my love has been full of the awful bitterness of his trouble.