Part 24 (1/2)
That was not quite what I intended; but I had made Ideala understand that nothing she could do would affect her intercourse with us. I told her so at once, because I would not have her alter her determination for any consideration but the highest. She might at the last have hesitated to separate herself from us for ever; but I felt sure if that were the case, and it was not a better motive entirely which deterred her, she would not be satisfied eventually; and I know now that I was right.
Ideala wrote to Lorrimer, and when she had finished her letter I found that she intended to impose a terrible task upon me.
”Until you know him yourself you will always misjudge him,” she said.
”I want you to take him my letter, and make his acquaintance.”
I hesitated.
”It is the least you can do,” she pleaded. ”I shall be easier in my mind if you will. It will be better for him to see you, and hear all the things I cannot tell him in my letter; and--and--if I must not see him myself it will be a comfort to see somebody who has. Do go. I shall be pained if you refuse.”
This decided me, and I went at once.
It was a long journey, the same that Ideala herself had taken under such very different circ.u.mstances so short a time before. I thought of her going in doubt and uncertainty, her own feelings colouring the aspect of all she saw on the way; and returning in the first warm glow of her great and unexpected joy--her new-found happiness which was destined, alas! to be so short-lived. Miserable fate which robbed her of all that would have made her life worth having--a husband on whom she could rely; her child; and now the man upon whom she had been prepared to lavish the long pent-up pa.s.sion, the concentrated devotion of her great and n.o.ble nature! Poor starved heart, crushed back upon itself, suffering silently, suffering always, but never hardening--on the contrary, growing tenderer for others the more it had to endure itself! Would it always be so? Was there no peace on earth for Ideala?
No one who could be all her own? I felt responsible for this last hard blow; had I done well? The rush and rattle of the train shaped itself into a sort of sub-chorus to my thoughts as we sped through the pleasant fields: _Was it right? Was it right? Was it right?_ And I saw Ideala, with soft, sad eyes, pleading--mutely pleading--pleading always for some pleasure in life, some natural, womanly joy, while youth and the power to love lasted. By an effort of will I banished the question. I told myself that my action in the matter had been expedient from every point of view; but presently
The rush of the grinding steel!
The thundering crank, and the mighty wheel!
took me to task again, and the chorus now became: _Expediency right!
Expediency right! Expediency right!_ which, when I banished it, resolved itself into: _Cold, proud Puritan! Cold, proud Puritan!_ for the rest of the way.
But the journey ended at last--though that was little relief with the task I had before me still unaccomplished.
A bulbous functionary took my card to Lorrimer when I presented myself at the Great Hospital next day, and returning presently informed me that Mr. Lorrimer was disengaged, and would see me at once, if I would be so good as to come this way. How familiar the whole proceeding seemed! And how well I knew the place! the soothing silence, the ma.s.sive grandeur, the long, dimly lighted gallery to the right, the door at which the servant stopped and knocked, the man who opened it, and met my eyes fearlessly, bowing with natural grace, and bidding me enter--a tall, fair man; self-contained and dignified; cold, pale, and unimpa.s.sioned--so I thought--but my equal in every way: the man who was ”all the world” to Ideala.
When I saw him I understood.
Lorrimer, after dismissing his secretary, was the first to speak.
”You come to me from Ideala?” he said. ”Is there anything wrong? Is she ill?”
And I fancied he turned a trifle paler as the fear flashed through his mind.
I rea.s.sured him. ”Physically she is better,” I said.
”But mentally?” he interposed. ”You give her no peace.”
I was silent.
”I know you are no friend of mine,” he added.
”On the contrary,” I answered. ”I hope I am the best friend you have just now.”
”I know what that means,” he said. ”You have tried to dissuade Ideala, and having failed, you have come here to use your influence with me”
”No,” I answered. ”I have not come to discuss the subject. I have brought you a letter from Ideala at her special request, and I am ready to take her any reply which you may think fit to send.”