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+Project Gutenberg's The Mistress of Shenstone, by Florence L. Barclay
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Mistress of Shenstone
+
+Author: Florence L. Barclay
+
+Release Date: August 9, 2008 [EBook #26235]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MISTRESS OF SHENSTONE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+THE MISTRESS OF SHENSTONE
+
+By
+Florence L. Barclay
+
+Author Of
+The Rosary, Etc.
+
+Grosset & Dunlap
+Publishers :: New York
+
+----------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+Copyright, 1910
+BY
+FLORENCE L. BARCLAY
+
+The Rosary                        The Following of the Star
+The Mistress of Shenstone         The Broken Halo
+Through the Postern Gate          The Wall of Partition
+The Upas Tree                     My Heart's Right There
+
+This edition is issued under arrangement with the publishers
+G. P. Putnam's Sons, New York and London
+
+The Knickerbocker Press, New York
+
+----------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+To
+C. W. B.
+
+----------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+CONTENTS
+
+CHAPTER                                      PAGE
+      I  On the Terrace at Shenstone            1
+     II  The Forerunner                         8
+    III  What Peter Knew                       23
+     IV  In Safe Hands                         48
+      V  Lady Ingleby's Rest-Cure              61
+     VI  At The Moorhead Inn                   77
+    VII  Mrs. O'Mara's Correspondence          82
+   VIII  In Horseshoe Cove                    105
+     IX  Jim Airth To The Rescue              111
+      X  "Yeo Ho, We Go!"                     114
+     XI  'Twixt Sea And Sky                   129
+    XII  Under The Morning Star               152
+   XIII  The Awakening                        159
+    XIV  Golden Days                          170
+     XV  "Where Is Lady Ingleby?"             190
+    XVI  Under The Beeches At Shenstone       205
+   XVII  "Surely You Knew?"                   214
+  XVIII  What Billy Had To Tell               220
+    XIX  Jim Airth Decides                    231
+     XX  A Better Point Of View               250
+    XXI  Michael Veritas                      260
+   XXII  Lord Ingleby's Wife                  271
+  XXIII  What Billy Knew                      289
+   XXIV  Mrs. Dalmain Reviews the Situation   303
+    XXV  The Test                             327
+   XXVI  "What Shall We Write?"               337
+
+----------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+
+
+
+THE MISTRESS OF SHENSTONE
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+ON THE TERRACE AT SHENSTONE
+
+
+Three o'clock on a dank afternoon, early in November. The wintry
+sunshine, in fitful gleams, pierced the greyness of the leaden sky.
+
+The great trees in Shenstone Park stood gaunt and bare, spreading wide
+arms over the sodden grass. All nature seemed waiting the first fall of
+winter's snow, which should hide its deadness and decay under a lovely
+pall of sparkling white, beneath which a promise of fresh life to come
+might gently move and stir; and, eventually, spring forth.
+
+The Mistress of Shenstone moved slowly up and down the terrace, wrapped
+in her long cloak, listening to the soft "drip, drip" of autumn all
+around; noting the silent fall of the last dead leaves; the steely grey
+of the lake beyond; the empty flower-garden; the deserted lawn.
+
+The large stone house had a desolate appearance, most of the rooms being,
+evidently, closed; but, in one or two, cheerful log-fires blazed, casting
+a ruddy glow upon the window-panes, and sending forth a tempting promise
+of warmth and cosiness within.
+
+A tiny white toy-poodle walked the terrace with his mistress--an agitated
+little bundle of white curls; sometimes running round and round her; then
+hurrying on before, or dropping behind, only to rush on, in unexpected
+haste, at the corners; almost tripping her up, as she turned.
+
+"Peter," said Lady Ingleby, on one of these occasions, "I do wish you
+would behave in a more rational manner! Either come to heel and follow
+sedately, as a dog of your age should do; or trot on in front, in the
+gaily juvenile manner you assume when Michael takes you out for a walk;
+but, for goodness sake, don't be so fidgety; and don't run round and
+round me in this bewildering way, or I shall call for William, and send
+you in. I only wish Michael could see you!"
+
+The little animal looked up at her, pathetically, through his tumbled
+curls--a soft silky mass, which had earned for him his name of
+Shockheaded Peter. His eyes, red-rimmed from the cold wind, had that
+unseeing look, often noticeable in a very old dog. Yet there was in them,
+and in the whole pose of his tiny body, an anguish of anxiety, which
+could not have escaped a genuine dog-lover. Even Lady Ingleby became
+partially aware of it. She stooped and patted his head.
+
+"Poor little Peter," she said, more kindly. "It is horrid, for us both,
+having Michael so far away at this tiresome war. But he will come home
+before long; and we shall forget all the anxiety and loneliness. It will
+be spring again. Michael will have you properly clipped, and we will go
+to Brighton, where you enjoy trotting about, and hearing people call you
+'The British Lion.' I verily believe you consider yourself the size of
+the lions in Trafalgar Square! I cannot imagine why a great big man, such
+as Michael, is so devoted to a tiny scrap of a dog, such as you! Now, if
+you were a Great Dane, or a mighty St. Bernard--! However, Michael loves
+us both, and we both love Michael; so we must be nice to each other,
+little Peter, while he is away."
+
+Myra Ingleby smiled, drew the folds of her cloak more closely around her,
+and moved on. A small white shadow, with no wag to its tail, followed
+dejectedly behind.
+
+And the dead leaves, loosing their hold of the sapless branches,
+fluttered to the sodden turf; and the soft "drip, drip" of autumn fell
+all around.
+
+The door of the lower hall opened. A footman, bringing a telegram, came
+quickly out. His features were set, in well-trained impassivity; but his
+eyelids flickered nervously as he handed the silver salver to his
+mistress.
+
+Lady Ingleby's lovely face paled to absolute whiteness beneath her large
+beaver hat; but she took up the orange envelope with a steady hand,
+opening it with fingers which did not tremble. As she glanced at the
+signature, the colour came back to her cheeks.
+
+"From Dr. Brand," she said, with an involuntary exclamation of relief;
+and the waiting footman turned and nodded furtively toward the house. A
+maid, at a window, dropped the blind, and ran to tell the anxious
+household all was well.
+
+Meanwhile, Lady Ingleby read her telegram.
+
+  Visiting patient in your neighbourhood. Can you put me up for the
+  night? Arriving 4.30.
+
+  Deryck Brand.
+
+Lady Ingleby turned to the footman. "William," she said, "tell Mrs.
+Jarvis, Sir Deryck Brand is called to this neighbourhood, and will stay
+here to-night. They can light a fire at once in the magnolia room, and
+prepare it for him. He will be here in an hour. Send the motor to the
+station. Tell Groatley we will have tea in my sitting-room as soon as Sir
+Deryck arrives. Send down word to the Lodge to Mrs. O'Mara, that I shall
+want her up here this evening. Oh, and--by the way--mention at once at
+the Lodge that there is no further news from abroad."
+
+"Yes, m' lady," said the footman; and Myra Ingleby smiled at the
+reflection, in the lad's voice and face, of her own immense relief. He
+turned and hastened to the house; Peter, in a sudden access of misplaced
+energy, barking furiously at his heels.
+
+Lady Ingleby moved to the front of the terrace and stood beside one of
+the stone lions, close to an empty vase, which in summer had been a
+brilliant mass of scarlet geraniums. Her face was glad with expectation.
+
+"Somebody to talk to, at last!" she said. "I had begun to think I should
+have to brave dear mamma, and return to town. And Sir Deryck of all
+people! He wires from Victoria, so I conclude he sees his patient _en
+route_, or in the morning. How perfectly charming of him to give me a
+whole evening. I wonder how many people would, if they knew of it, be
+breaking the tenth commandment concerning me! ... Peter, you little
+fiend! Come here! Why the footmen, and gardeners, and postmen, do not
+kick out your few remaining teeth, passes me! You pretend to be too
+unwell to eat your dinner, and then behave like a frantic hyena, because
+poor innocent William brings me a telegram! I shall write and ask Michael
+if I may have you hanged."
+
+And, in high good humour, Lady Ingleby went into the house.
+
+But, outside, the dead leaves turned slowly, and rustled on the grass;
+while the soft "drip, drip" of autumn fell all around. The dying year was
+almost dead; and nature waited for her pall of snow.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+THE FORERUNNER
+
+
+"What it is to have somebody to talk to, at last! And _you_, of all
+people, dear Doctor! Though I still fail to understand how a patient, who
+has brought you down to these parts, can wait for your visit until
+to-morrow morning, thus giving a perfectly healthy person, such as
+myself, the inestimable privilege of your company at tea, dinner, and
+breakfast, with delightful _tête-à-têtes_ in between. All the world knows
+your minutes are golden."
+
+Thus Lady Ingleby, as she poured out the doctor's tea, and handed it to
+him.
+
+Deryck Brand placed the cup carefully on his corner of the folding
+tea-table, helped himself to thin bread-and-butter; then answered, with
+his most charming smile,
+
+"Mine would be a very dismal profession dear lady, if it precluded me
+from ever having a meal, or a conversation, or from spending a pleasant
+evening, with a perfectly healthy person. I find the surest way to live
+one's life to the full, accomplishing the maximum amount of work with the
+minimum amount of strain, is to cultivate the habit of living in the
+present; giving the whole mind to the scene, the subject, the person, of
+the moment. Therefore, with your leave, we will dismiss my patients, past
+and future; and enjoy, to the full, this unexpected _tête-à-tête_."
+
+Myra Ingleby looked at her visitor. His forty-two years sat lightly on
+him, notwithstanding the streaks of silver in the dark hair just over
+each temple. There was a youthful alertness about the tall athletic
+figure; but the lean brown face, clean shaven and reposeful, held a look
+of quiet strength and power, mingled with a keen kindliness and ready
+comprehension, which inspired trust, and drew forth confidence.
+
+The burden of a great loneliness seemed lifted from Myra's heart.
+
+"Do you always put so much salt on your bread-and-butter?" she said. "And
+how glad I am to be 'the person of the moment.' Only--until this
+mysterious 'patient in the neighbourhood' demands your attention,--you
+ought to be having a complete holiday, and I must try to forget that I am
+talking to the greatest nerve specialist of the day, and only realise the
+pleasure of entertaining so good a friend of Michael's and my own.
+Otherwise I should be tempted to consult you; for I really believe, Sir
+Deryck, for the first time in my life, I am becoming neurotic."
+
+The doctor did not need to look at his hostess. His practised eye had
+already noted the thin cheeks; the haunted look; the purple shadows
+beneath the lovely grey eyes, for which the dark fringes of black
+eyelashes were not altogether accountable. He leaned forward and looked
+into the fire.
+
+"If such is really the case," he said, "that you should be aware of it,
+is so excellent a symptom, that the condition cannot be serious. But I
+want you to remember, Lady Ingleby, that I count all my patients,
+friends; also that my friends may consider themselves at liberty, at any
+moment, to become my patients. So consult me, if I can be of any use to
+you."
+
+The doctor helped himself to more bread-and-butter, folding it with
+careful precision.
+
+Lady Ingleby held out her hand for his cup, grateful that he did not
+appear to notice the rush of unexpected tears to her eyes. She busied
+herself with the urn until she could control her voice; then said, with a
+rather tremulous laugh: "Ah, thank you! Presently--if I may--I gladly
+will consult you. Meanwhile, how do you like 'the scene of the moment'?
+Do you consider my boudoir improved? Michael made all these alterations
+before he went away. The new electric lights are a patent arrangement of
+his own. And had you seen his portrait? A wonderful likeness, isn't it?"
+
+The doctor looked around him, appreciatively.
+
+"I have been admiring the room, ever since I entered," he said. "It is
+charming." Then he raised his eyes to the picture over the
+mantelpiece:--the life-sized portrait of a tall, bearded man, with the
+high brow of the scholar and thinker; the eyes of the mystic; the
+gentle unruffled expression of the saint. He appeared old enough to be
+the father of the woman in whose boudoir his portrait was the central
+object. The artist had painted him in an old Norfolk shooting-suit,
+leather leggings, hunting-crop in hand, seated in a garden chair, beside
+a rustic table. Everything in the picture was homely, old, and
+comfortable; the creases in the suit were old friends; the ancient
+tobacco pouch on the table was worn and stained. Russet-brown
+predominated, and the highest light in the painting was the clear blue
+of those dreamy, musing eyes. They were bent upon the table, where
+sat, in an expectant attitude of adoring attention, a white toy-poodle.
+The palpable devotion between the big man and the tiny dog, the
+concentrated affection with which they looked at one another, were very
+cleverly depicted. The picture might have been called: "We two"; also
+it left an impression of a friendship in which there had been no room for
+a third. The doctor glanced, for an instant, at the lovely woman on
+the lounge, behind the silver urn, and his subconsciousness propounded the
+question: "Where did _she_ come in?" But the next moment he turned
+towards the large armchair on his right, where a small dejected mass of
+white curls lay in a huddled heap. It was impossible to distinguish
+between head and tail.
+
+"Is this the little dog?" asked the doctor.
+
+"Yes; that is Peter. But in the picture he is smart and properly clipped,
+and feeling better than he does just now. Peter and Michael are devoted
+to each other; and, when Michael is away, Peter is left in my charge. But
+I am not fond of small dogs; and I really consider Peter very much
+spoilt. Also I always feel he just tolerates me because I am Michael's
+wife, and remains with me because, where I am, there Michael will return.
+But I am quite kind to him, for Michael's sake. Only he really is a nasty
+little dog; and too old to be allowed to continue. Michael always speaks
+of him as if he were quite too good to live; and, personally, I think it
+is high time he went where all good dogs go. I cannot imagine what is the
+matter with him now. Since yesterday afternoon he has refused all his
+food, and been so restless and fidgety. He always sleeps on Michael's
+bed; and, as a rule, after I have put him there, and closed the door
+between Michael's room and mine, I hear no more of Peter, until he barks
+to be let out in the morning, and my maid takes him down-stairs. But last
+night, he whined and howled for hours. At length I got up, found
+Michael's old shooting jacket--the very one in the portrait--and laid it
+on the bed. Peter crawled into it, and cuddled down, I folded the sleeves
+around him, and he seemed content. But to-day he still refuses to eat. I
+believe he is dyspeptic, or has some other complaint, such as dogs
+develop when they are old. Honestly--don't you think--a little effective
+poison, in an attractive pill----?"
+
+"Oh, hush!" said the doctor. "Peter may not be asleep."
+
+Lady Ingleby laughed. "My dear Sir Deryck! Do you suppose animals
+understand our conversation?"
+
+"Indeed I do," replied the doctor. "And more than that, they do not
+require the medium of language. Their comprehension is telepathic. They
+read our thoughts. A nervous rider or driver can terrify a horse. Dumb
+creatures will turn away from those who think of them with dislike or
+aversion; whereas a true lover of animals can win them without a spoken
+word. The thought of love and of goodwill reaches them telepathically,
+winning instant trust and response. Also, if we take the trouble to do
+so, we can, to a great extent, arrive at their ideas, in the same way."
+
+"Extraordinary!" exclaimed Lady Ingleby. "Well, I wish you would
+thought-read what is the matter with Peter. I shall not know how to face
+Michael's home-coming, if anything goes wrong with his belovèd dog."
+
+The doctor lay back in his armchair; crossed his knees the one over the
+other; rested his elbows on the arms of the chair; then let his
+finger-tips meet very exactly. Instinctively he assumed the attitude in
+which he usually sat when bending his mind intently on a patient.
+Presently he turned and looked steadily at the little white heap curled
+up in the big armchair.
+
+The room was very still.
+
+"Peter!" said the doctor, suddenly.
+
+Peter sat up at once, and peeped at the doctor, through his curls.
+
+"Poor little Peter," said the doctor, kindly.
+
+Peter moved to the edge of the chair; sat very upright, and looked
+eagerly across to where the doctor was sitting. Then he wagged his tail,
+tapping the chair with quick, anxious, little taps.
+
+"The first wag I have seen in twenty-four hours," remarked Lady Ingleby;
+but neither Deryck Brand nor Shockheaded Peter heeded the remark.
+
+The anxious eyes of the dog were gazing, with an agony of question, into
+the kind keen eyes of the man.
+
+Without moving, the doctor spoke.
+
+"_Yes_, little Peter," he said.
+
+Peter's small tufted tail ceased thumping. He sat very still for a
+moment; then quietly moved back to the middle of the chair, turned round
+and round three or four times; then lay down, dropping his head between
+his paws with one long shuddering sigh, like a little child which has
+sobbed itself to sleep.
+
+The doctor turned, and looked at Lady Ingleby.
+
+"What does that mean?" queried Myra, astonished.
+
+"Little Peter asked a question," replied Sir Deryck, gravely; "and I
+answered it."
+
+"Wonderful! Will you talk this telepathy over with Michael when he comes
+home? It would interest him."
+
+The doctor looked into the fire.
+
+"It is a big subject," he said. "When I can spare the time, I am thinking
+of writing an essay on the mental and spiritual development of animals,
+as revealed in the Bible."
+
+"Balaam's ass?" suggested Lady Ingleby, promptly.
+
+The doctor smiled. "Quite so," he said. "But Balaam's ass is neither the
+only animal in the Bible, nor the most interesting case. Have you ever
+noticed the many instances in which animals immediately obeyed God's
+commands, even when those commands ran counter to their strongest
+instincts? For instance:--the lion, who met the disobedient man of God on
+the road from Bethel. The instinct of the beast, after slaying the man,
+would have been to maul the body, drag it away into his lair, and devour
+it. But the Divine command was:--that he should slay, but not eat the
+carcass, nor tear the ass. The instinct of the ass would have been to
+flee in terror from the lion; but, undoubtedly, a Divine assurance
+overcame her natural fear; and all men who passed by beheld this
+remarkable sight:--a lion and an ass standing sentry, one on either side
+of the dead body of the man of God; and there they remained until the old
+prophet from Bethel arrived, to fetch away the body and bury it."
+
+"Extraordinary!" said Lady Ingleby. "So they did. And now one comes to
+think of it there are plenty of similar instances. The instinct of the
+serpent which Moses lifted up on a pole, would have been to come
+scriggling down, and go about biting the Israelites, instead of staying
+up on the pole, to be looked at for their healing."
+
+The doctor smiled. "Quite so," he said, "Only, we must not quote him as
+an instance; because, being made of brass, I fear he was devoid of
+instinct. Otherwise he would have been an excellent case in point. And I
+believe animals possess far more spiritual life than we suspect. Do you
+remember a passage in the Psalms which says that the lions 'seek their
+meat from God'? And, more striking still, in the same Psalm we read of
+the whole brute creation, that when God hides His face 'they are
+troubled.' Good heavens!" said the doctor, earnestly; "I wish _our_
+spiritual life always answered to these two tests:--that God's will
+should be paramount over our strongest instincts; and that any cloud
+between us and the light of His face, should cause us instant trouble of
+soul."
+
+"I like that expression 'spiritual life,'" said Lady Ingleby. "I am sure
+you mean by it what other people sometimes express so differently. Did
+you hear of the Duchess of Meldrum attending that big evangelistic
+meeting in the Albert Hall? I really don't know exactly what it was. Some
+sort of non-sectarian mission, I gather, with a preacher over from
+America; and the meetings went on for a fortnight. It would never have
+occurred to me to go to them. But the dear old duchess always likes to be
+'in the know' and to sample everything. Besides, she holds a proprietary
+stall. So she sailed into the Albert Hall one afternoon, in excellent
+time, and remained throughout the entire proceedings. She enjoyed the
+singing; thought the vast listening crowd, marvellous; was moved to tears
+by the eloquence of the preacher, and was leaving the hall more touched
+than she had been for years, and fully intending to return, bringing
+others with her, when a smug person, hovering about the entrance,
+accosted her with: 'Excuse me madam; are you a Christian?' The duchess
+raised her lorgnette in blank amazement, and looked him tip and down.
+Very likely the tears still glistened upon her proud old face. Anyway
+this impossible person appears to have considered her a promising case.
+Emboldened by her silence, he laid his hand upon her arm, and repeated
+his question: 'Madam, are you a Christian?' Then the duchess awoke to the
+situation with a vengeance. 'My good man,' she said, clearly and
+deliberately, so that all in the lobby could hear; 'I should have thought
+it would have been perfectly patent to your finely trained perceptions,
+that I am an engaging mixture of Jew, Turk, Infidel, and Heathen Chinee!
+Now, if you will kindly stand aside, I will pass to my carriage.'--And
+the duchess sampled no more evangelistic meetings!"
+
+The doctor sighed. "Tactless," he said. "Ah, the pity of it, when 'fools
+rush in where angels fear to tread!'"
+
+"People scream with laughter, when the duchess tells it," said Lady
+Ingleby; "but then she imitates the unctuous person so exactly; and she
+does not mention the tears. I have them from an eye-witness. But--as I
+was saying--I like your expression: 'spiritual life.' It really holds a
+meaning; and, though one may have to admit one does not possess any, or,
+that what one does possess is at a low ebb, yet one sees the genuine
+thing in others, and it is something to believe in, at all events.--Look
+how peacefully little Peter is sleeping. You have evidently set his mind
+at rest. That is Michael's armchair; and, therefore, Peter's. Now we will
+send away the tea-things; and then--may I become a patient?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+WHAT PETER KNEW
+
+
+"Isn't my good Groatley a curious looking person?" said Lady Ingleby, as
+the door closed behind the butler. "I call him the Gryphon, because he
+looks perpetually astonished. His eyebrows are like black horseshoes, and
+they mount higher and higher up his forehead as one's sentence proceeds.
+But he is very faithful, and knows his work, and Michael approves him. Do
+you like this portrait of Michael? Garth Dalmain stayed here a few months
+before he lost his sight, poor boy, and painted us both. I believe mine
+was practically his last portrait. It hangs in the dining-room."
+
+The doctor moved his chair opposite the fireplace, so that he could sit
+facing the picture over the mantelpiece, yet turn readily toward Lady
+Ingleby on his left. On his right, little Peter, with an occasional
+sobbing sigh, slept heavily in his absent master's chair. The log-fire
+burned brightly. The electric light, from behind amber glass, sent a
+golden glow as of sunshine through the room. The dank damp drip of autumn
+had no place in this warm luxury. The curtains were closely drawn; and
+that which is not seen, can be forgotten.
+
+The doctor glanced at the clock. The minute-hand pointed to the quarter
+before six.
+
+He lifted his eyes to the picture.
+
+"I hardly know Lord Ingleby sufficiently well to give an opinion; but I
+should say it is an excellent likeness, possessing, to a large degree,
+the peculiar quality of all Dalmain's portraits:--the more you look at
+them, the more you see in them. They are such extraordinary character
+studies. With your increased knowledge of the person, grows your
+appreciation of the cleverness of the portrait."
+
+"Yes," said Lady Ingleby, leaning forward to look intently up at the
+picture. "It often startles me as I come into the room, because I see a
+fresh expression on the face, just according to my own mood, or what I
+happen to have been doing; and I realise Michael's mind on the subject
+more readily from the portrait than from my own knowledge of him. Garth
+Dalmain was a genius!"
+
+"Now tell me," said the doctor, gently. "Why did you leave town, your
+many friends, your interests there, in order to bury yourself down here,
+during this dismal autumn weather? Surely the strain of waiting for news
+would have been less, within such easy reach of the War Office and of the
+evening papers."
+
+Lady Ingleby laughed, rather mirthlessly.
+
+"I came away, Sir Deryck, partly to escape from dear mamma; and as you do
+not know dear mamma, it is almost impossible for you to understand how
+essential it was to escape. When Michael is away, I am defenceless. Mamma
+swoops down; takes up her abode in my house; reduces my household,
+according to their sex and temperament, to rage, hysterics, or despair;
+tells unpalatable home-truths to my friends, so that all--save the
+duchess--flee discomforted. Then mamma proceeds to 'divide the spoil'! In
+other words: she lies in wait for my telegrams, and opens them herself,
+saying that if they contain _good_ news, a dutiful daughter should
+delight in at once sharing it with her; whereas, if they contain _bad_
+news, which heaven forbid!--and surely, with mamma snorting skyward,
+heaven would not venture to do otherwise!--_she_ is the right person to
+break it to me, gently. I bore it for six weeks; then fled down here,
+well knowing that not even the dear delight of bullying me would bring
+mamma to Shenstone in autumn."
+
+The doctor's face was grave. For a moment he looked silently into the
+fire. He was a man of many ideals, and foremost among them was his ideal
+of the relation which should be between parents and children; of the
+loyalty to a mother, which, even if forced to admit faults or failings,
+should tenderly shield them from the knowledge or criticism of outsiders.
+It hurt him, as a sacrilege, to hear a daughter speak thus of her mother;
+yet he knew well, from facts which were common knowledge, how little
+cause the sweet, lovable woman at his side had to consider the tie either
+a sacred or a tender one. He had come to help, not to find fault. Also,
+the minute-hand was hastening towards the hour; and the final
+instructions of the kind-hearted old Duchess of Meldrum, as she parted
+from him at the War Office, had been: "Remember! Six o'clock from London.
+I shall _insist_ upon its being kept back until then. If they make
+difficulties, I shall camp in the entrance and 'hold up' every messenger
+who attempts to pass out. But I am accustomed to have my own way with
+these good people. I should not hesitate to ring up Buckingham Palace, if
+necessary, as they very well know! So you may rest assured it will not
+leave London until six o'clock. It gives you ample time."
+
+Therefore the doctor said: "I understand. It does not come within my own
+experience; yet I think I understand. But tell me, Lady Ingleby. If bad
+news were to come, would you sooner receive it direct from the War
+Office, in the terribly crude wording which cannot be avoided in those
+telegrams; or would you rather that a friend--other than your
+mother--broke it to you, more gently?"
+
+Myra's eyes flashed. She sat up with instant animation.
+
+"Oh, I would receive it direct," she said. "It would be far less hard, if
+it were official. I should hear the roll of the drums, and see the wave
+of the flag. For England, and for Honour! A soldier's daughter, and a
+soldier's wife, should be able to stand up to anything. If they had to
+tell me Michael was in great danger, I should share his danger in
+receiving the news without flinching. If he were wounded, as I read the
+telegram I should receive a wound myself, and try to be as brave as he.
+All which came direct from the war, would unite me to Michael. But
+interfering friends, however well-meaning, would come between. If _he_
+had not been shielded from a bullet or a sword-thrust, why should _I_ be
+shielded from the knowledge of his wound?"
+
+The doctor screened his face with his hand,
+
+"I see," he said.
+
+The clock struck six.
+
+"But that was not the only reason I left town," continued Lady Ingleby,
+with evident effort. Then she flung out both hands towards him. "Oh,
+doctor! I wonder if I might tell you a thing which has been a burden on
+my heart and life for years!"
+
+There followed a tense moment of silence; but the doctor was used to such
+moments, and could usually determine during the silence, whether the
+confidence should be allowed or avoided. He turned and looked steadily at
+the lovely wistful face.
+
+It was the face of an exceedingly beautiful woman, nearing thirty. But
+the lovely eyes still held the clear candour of the eyes of a little
+child, the sweet lips quivered with quickly felt emotion, the low brow
+showed no trace of shame or sin. The doctor knew he was in the presence
+of one of the most popular hostesses, one of the most admired women, in
+the kingdom. Yet his keen professional insight revealed to him an
+arrested development; possibilities unfulfilled; a problem of inadequacy
+and consequent disappointment, to which he had not the key. But those
+outstretched hands eagerly held it towards him. Could he bring help, if
+he accepted a knowledge of the solution; or--did help come too late?
+
+"Dear Lady Ingleby," he said, quietly; "tell me anything you like; that
+is to say, anything which you feel assured Lord Ingleby would allow
+discussed with a third person."
+
+Myra leaned back among the cushions and laughed--a gay little laugh, half
+of amusement, half of relief.
+
+"Oh, Michael would not mind!" she said. "Anything Michael would mind, I
+have always told straight to himself; and they were silly little things;
+such as foolish people trying to make love to me; or a foreign prince,
+with moustaches like the German Emperor's, offering to shoot Michael, if
+I would promise to marry him when his period of consequent imprisonment
+was over. I cut the idiots who had presumed to make love to me, ever
+after; and assured the foreign prince, I should undoubtedly kill him
+myself, if he hurt a hair of Michael's head! No, dear doctor. My life is
+clear of all that sort of complication. My trouble is a harder one,
+involving one's whole life-problem. And that problem is incompetence and
+inadequacy--not towards the world, I should not care a rap for that; but
+towards the one to whom I owe most: towards Michael,--my husband."
+
+The doctor moved uneasily in his chair, and glanced at the clock.
+
+"Oh, hush!" he said. "Do not----"
+
+"No!" cried Myra. "You must not stop me. Let me at last have the relief
+of speech! My friend, I am twenty-eight; I have had ten years of married
+life; yet I do not believe I have ever really grown up! In heart and
+brain I am an undeveloped child, and I know it; and, worse still, Michael
+knows it, and--_Michael does not mind_. Listen! It dates back to years
+ago. Mamma never allowed any of her daughters to grow up. We were
+permitted no individuality of our own, no opinions, no independence. All
+that was required of us, was to 'do her behests, and follow in her
+train.' Forgive the misquotation. We were always children in mamma's
+eyes. We grew tall; we grew good-looking; but we never grew up. We
+remained children, to be snubbed, domineered over, and bullied. My
+sisters, who were good children, had plenty of jam and cake; and,
+eventually, husbands after mamma's own heart were found for them. Perhaps
+you know how those marriages have turned out?"
+
+Lady Ingleby paused, and the doctor made an almost imperceptible sign of
+assent. One of the ladies in question, a most unhappy woman, was under
+treatment in his Mental Sanatorium at that very moment; but he doubted
+whether Lady Ingleby knew it.
+
+"I was the black sheep," continued Myra, finding no remark forthcoming.
+"Nothing I did was ever right; everything I did was always wrong. When
+Michael met me I was nearly eighteen, the height I am now, but in the
+nursery, as regards mental development or knowledge of the world; and, as
+regards character, a most unhappy, utterly reckless, little child.
+Michael's love, when at last I realised it, was wonderful to me.
+Tenderness, appreciation, consideration, were experiences so novel that
+they would have turned my head, had not the elation they produced been
+counterbalanced by a gratitude which was overwhelming; and a terror of
+being handed back to mamma, which would have made me agree to anything.
+Years later, Michael told me that what first attracted him to me was a
+look in my eyes just like the look in those of a favourite spaniel of
+his, who was always in trouble with everyone else, and had just been
+accidentally shot, by a keeper. Michael told me this himself; and really
+thought I should be pleased! Somehow it gave me the key to my standing
+with him--just that of a very tenderly-loved pet dog. No words can say
+how good he has always been to me. If I lost him, I should lose my
+all--everything which makes home, home; and life a safe, and certain,
+thing. But if _he_ lost little Peter, it would be a more real loss to him
+than if he lost me; because Peter is more intelligent for his size, and
+really more of an actual companion to Michael, than I am. Many a time,
+when he has passed through my room on the way to his, with Peter tucked
+securely under his arm; and saying, 'Good-night, my dear,' to me, has
+gone in and shut the door, I have felt I could slay little Peter, because
+he had the better place, and because he looked at me through his curls,
+as he was carried away, as if to say: '_You_ are out of it!' Yet I knew I
+had all I deserved; and Michael's kindness and goodness and patience were
+beyond words. Only--only--ah, _can_ you understand? I would sooner he had
+found fault and scolded; I would sooner have been shaken and called a
+fool, than smiled at, and left alone. I was in the nursery when he
+married me; I have been in the school-room ever since, trying to learn
+life's lessons, alone, without a teacher. Nothing has helped me to grow
+up. Michael has always told me I am perfect, and everything I do is
+perfect, and he does not want me different. But I have never really
+shared his life and interests. If I make idiotic mistakes he does not
+correct me. I have to find them out, when I repeat them before others.
+When I made that silly blunder about the brazen serpent, you so kindly
+put me right. Michael would have smiled and let it pass as not worth
+correcting; then I should have repeated it before a roomful of people,
+and wondered why they looked amused! Ah, but what do I care for people,
+or the world! It is my true place beside Michael I want to win. I want to
+'grow up unto him in all things.' Yes, I know that is a text. I am famous
+for misquotations, or rather, misapplications. But it expresses my
+meaning--as the duchess remarks, when _she_ has said something mild under
+provocation, and her parrot swears!--And now tell me, dear wise kind
+doctor; you, who have been the lifelong friend of that grand creature,
+Jane Dalmain; you, who have done so much for dozens of women I know; tell
+me how I can cease to be inadequate towards my husband."
+
+The passionate flow of words ceased suddenly. Lady Ingleby leaned back
+against the cushions.
+
+Peter sighed in his sleep.
+
+A clock in the hall chimed the quarter after six.
+
+The doctor looked steadily into the fire. He seemed to find speech
+difficult.
+
+At last he said, in a voice which shook slightly: "Dear Lady Ingleby, he
+did not--he does not--think you so."
+
+"No, no!" she cried, sitting forward again. "He thinks of me nothing but
+what is kind and right. But he never expected me to be more than a nice,
+affectionate, good-looking dog; and I--I have not known how to be better
+than his expectations. But, although he is so patient, he sometimes grows
+unutterably tired of being with me. All other pet creatures are dumb; but
+I love talking, and I constantly say silly things, which do not _sound_
+silly, until I have said them. He goes off to Norway, fishing; to the
+Engadine, mountain-climbing; to this horrid war, risking his precious
+life. Anywhere to get away alone; anywhere to----"
+
+"Hush," said the doctor, and laid a firm brown hand, for a moment, on the
+white fluttering fingers. "You are overwrought by the suspense of these
+past weeks. You know perfectly well that Lord Ingleby volunteered for
+this border war because he was so keen on experimenting with his new
+explosives, and on trying these ideas for using electricity in modern
+warfare, at which he has worked so long."
+
+"Oh, yes, I know," said Myra, smiling wistfully. "Tiresome things, which
+keep him hours in his laboratory. And he has some very clever plan for
+long distance signalling from fort to fort--hieroglyphics in the sky,
+isn't it? you know what I mean. But the fact that he volunteered into all
+this danger, merely to do experimenting, makes it harder to bear than if
+he had been at the head of his old regiment, and gone at the imperative
+call of duty. However--nothing matters so long as he comes home safely.
+And now you--you, Sir Deryck--must help me to become a real helpmeet to
+Michael. Tell me how you helped--oh, very well, we will not mention
+names. But give me wise advice. Give me hope; give me courage. Make me
+strong."
+
+The doctor looked at the clock; and, even as he looked, the chimes in the
+hall rang out the half-hour.
+
+"You have not yet told me," he said, speaking very slowly, as if
+listening for some other sound; "you have not yet told me, your second
+reason for leaving town."
+
+"Ah," said Lady Ingleby, and her voice held a deeper, older, tone--a note
+bordering on tragedy. "Ah! I left town, Sir Deryck, because other people
+were teaching me love-lessons, and I did not want to learn them apart
+from Michael. I stayed with Jane Dalmain and her blind husband, before
+they went back to Gleneesh. You remember? They were in town for the
+production of his symphony. I saw that ideal wedded life, and I realised
+something of what a perfect mating of souls could mean. And then--well,
+there were others; people who did not understand how wholly I am
+Michael's; nothing actually wrong; but not so fresh and youthful as
+Billy's innocent adoration; and I feared I should accidentally learn what
+only Michael must teach. Therefore I fled away! Oh, doctor; if I ever
+learned from another man, that which I have failed to learn from my own
+husband, I should lie at Michael's feet and implore him to kill me!"
+
+The doctor looked up at the portrait over the mantelpiece. The calm
+passionless face smiled blandly at the tiny dog. One sensitive hand,
+white and delicate as a woman's, was raised, forefinger uplifted, gently
+holding the attention of the little animal's eager eyes. The magic skill
+of the artist supplied the doctor with the key to the problem. A
+_woman_--as mate, as wife, as part of himself, was not a necessity in the
+life of this thinker, inventor, scholar, saint. He could appreciate dumb
+devotion; he was capable of unlimited kindness, leniency, patience,
+toleration. But woman and dog alike, remained outside the citadel of his
+inner self. Had not her eyes resembled those of a favourite spaniel, he
+would very probably not have wedded the lovely woman who, now, during ten
+years had borne his name; and even then he might not have done so, had
+not the tyranny of her mother, awakening his instinct of protection
+towards the weak and oppressed, aroused in him a determination to
+withstand that tyranny, and to carry her off triumphantly to freedom.
+
+The longer the doctor looked, the more persistently the picture said; "We
+two; and where does _she_ come in?"--Righteous wrath arose in the heart
+of Deryck Brand; for his ideal as to man's worship of woman was a high
+one. As he thought of the closed door; of the lonely wife, humbly jealous
+of a toy-poodle, yet blaming herself only, for her loneliness, his jaw
+set, and his brow darkened. And all the while he listened for a sound
+from the outer world which must soon come.
+
+Lady Ingleby noticed his intent gaze, and, leaning forward, also looked
+up at the picture. The firelight shone on her lovely face, and on the
+gleaming softness of her hair. Her lips parted in a tender smile; a pure
+radiance shone from her eyes.
+
+"Ah, he _is_ so good!" she said. "In all the years, he has never once
+spoken harshly to me. And see how lovingly he looks at Peter, who really
+is a most unattractive little dog. Did you ever hear the duchess's _bon
+mot_ about Michael? He and I once stayed together at Overdene; but she
+did not ask us again until he was abroad, fishing in Norway; so of course
+I went by myself. The duchess always does those things frankly, and
+explains them. Therefore on this occasion she said: 'My dear, I enjoy a
+visit from you; but you must only come, when you can come alone. I will
+never undertake again, to live up to your good Michael. It really was a
+case of St. Michael and All Angels. _He_ was St. Michael, and _we_ had to
+be all angels!' Wasn't it like the duchess; and a beautiful testimony to
+Michael's consistent goodness? Oh, I wish you knew him better. And, for
+the matter of that, I wish I knew him better! But after all I _am_ his
+wife. Nothing can rob me of that. And don't you think--when Michael comes
+home this time--somehow, all will be different; better than ever
+before?"
+
+The hall clock chimed three-quarters after the hour.
+
+The clang of a bell resounded through the silent house.
+
+Peter sat up, and barked once, sharply.
+
+The doctor rose and stood with his back to the fire, facing the door.
+
+Myra's question remained unanswered.
+
+Hurried steps approached.
+
+A footman entered, with a telegram for Lady Ingleby.
+
+She took it with calm fingers, and without the usual sinking of the heart
+from sudden apprehension. Her mind was full of the conversation of the
+moment, and the doctor's presence made her feel so strong and safe; so
+sure of no approach of evil tidings.
+
+She did not hear Sir Deryck's quiet voice say to the man: "You need not
+wait."
+
+As the door closed, the doctor turned away, and stood looking into the
+fire.
+
+The room was very still.
+
+Lady Ingleby opened her telegram, unfolded it slowly, and read it through
+twice.
+
+Afterwards she sat on, in such absolute silence that, at length, the
+doctor turned and looked at her.
+
+She met his eyes, quietly.
+
+"Sir Deryck," she said, "it is from the War Office. They tell me Michael
+has been killed. Do you think it is true?"
+
+She handed him the telegram. Taking it from her, he read it in silence.
+Then: "Dear Lady Ingleby," he said, very gently, "I fear there is no
+doubt. He has given his life for his country. You will be as brave in
+giving him, as he would wish his wife to be."
+
+Myra smiled; but the doctor saw her face slowly whiten.
+
+"Yes," she said; "oh, yes! I will not fail him. I will be adequate--at
+last." Then, as if a sudden thought had struck her: "Did you know of
+this? Is it why you came?"
+
+"Yes," said the doctor, slowly. "The duchess sent me. She was at the War
+Office this morning when the news came in, inquiring for Ronald Ingram,
+who has been wounded, and is down with fever. She telephoned for me, and
+insisted on the telegram being kept back until six o'clock this evening,
+in order to give me time to get here, and to break the news to you first,
+if it seemed well."
+
+Myra gazed at him, wide-eyed. "And you let me say all that, about Michael
+and myself?"
+
+"Dear lady," said the doctor, and few had ever heard that deep firm
+voice, so nearly tremulous, "I could not stop you. But you did not say
+one word which was not absolutely loving and loyal."
+
+"How could I have?" queried Myra, her face growing whiter, and her eyes
+wider and more bright. "I have never had a thought which was not loyal
+and loving."
+
+"I know," said the doctor. "Poor brave heart,--I know."
+
+Myra took up the telegram, and read it again.
+
+"Killed," she said; "_killed_. I wish I knew how."
+
+"The duchess is ready to come to you immediately, if you would like to
+have her," suggested the doctor.
+
+"No," said Myra, smiling vaguely. "No; I think not. Not unless dear mamma
+comes. If that happens we must wire for the duchess, because now--now
+Michael is away--she is the only person who can cope with mamma. But
+please not, otherwise; because--well, you see,--she said she could not
+live up to Michael; and it does not sound funny now."
+
+"Is there anybody you would wish sent for at once?" inquired the doctor,
+wondering how much larger and brighter those big grey eyes could grow;
+and whether any living face had ever been so absolutely colourless.
+
+"Anybody I should wish sent for at once? I don't know. Oh, yes--there is
+one person; if she could come. Jane--you know? Jane Dalmain. I always say
+she is like the bass of a tune; so solid, and satisfactory, and beneath
+one. Nothing very bad could happen, if Jane were there. But of course
+this _has_ happened; hasn't it?"
+
+The doctor sat down.
+
+"I wired to Gleneesh this morning," he said. "Jane will be here early
+to-morrow."
+
+"Then lots of people knew before I did?" said Lady Ingleby.
+
+The doctor did not answer.
+
+She rose, and stood looking down into the fire; her tall graceful figure
+drawn up to its full height, her back to the doctor, whose watchful eyes
+never left her for an instant.
+
+Suddenly she looked across to Lord Ingleby's chair.
+
+"And I believe _Peter_ knew," she said, in a loud, high-pitched voice.
+"Good heavens! Peter knew; and refused his food because Michael was dead.
+And _I_ said he had dyspepsia! Michael, oh Michael! Your wife didn't know
+you were dead; but your dog knew! Oh Michael, Michael! Little Peter
+knew!"
+
+She lifted her arms toward the picture of the big man and the tiny dog.
+
+Then she swayed backward.
+
+The doctor caught her, as she fell.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+IN SAFE HANDS
+
+
+All through the night Lady Ingleby lay gazing before her, with bright
+unseeing eyes.
+
+The quiet woman from the Lodge, who had been, before her own marriage, a
+devoted maid-companion to Lady Ingleby, arrived in speechless sorrow, and
+helped the doctor tenderly with all there was to do.
+
+But when consciousness returned, and realisation, they were accompanied
+by no natural expressions of grief; simply a settled stony silence; the
+white set face; the bright unseeing eyes.
+
+Margaret O'Mara knelt, and wept, and prayed, kissing the folded hands
+upon the silken quilt. But Lady Ingleby merely smiled vaguely; and once
+she said: "Hush, my dear Maggie. At last we will be adequate."
+
+Several times during the night the doctor came, sitting silently beside
+the bed, with watchful eyes and quiet touch. Myra scarcely noticed him,
+and again he wondered how much larger the big grey eyes would grow, in
+the pale setting of that lovely face.
+
+Once he signed to the other watcher to follow him into the corridor.
+Closing the door, he turned and faced her. He liked this quiet woman, in
+her simple black merino gown, linen collar and cuffs, and neatly braided
+hair. There was an air of refinement and gentle self-control about her,
+which pleased the doctor.
+
+"Mrs. O'Mara," he said; "she must weep, and she must sleep."
+
+"She does not weep easily, sir," replied Margaret O'Mara, "and I have
+known her to lie widely awake throughout an entire night with less cause
+for sorrow than this."
+
+"Ah," said the doctor; and he looked keenly at the woman from the Lodge.
+"I wonder what else you have known?" he thought. But he did not voice the
+conjecture. Deryck Brand rarely asked questions of a third person. His
+patients never had to find out that his knowledge of them came through
+the gossip or the breach of confidence of others.
+
+At last he could allow that fixed unseeing gaze no longer. He decided to
+do what was necessary, with a quiet nod, in response to Margaret O'Mara's
+imploring look. He turned back the loose sleeve of the silk nightdress,
+one firm hand grasped the soft arm beneath it; the other passed over it
+for a moment with swift skilful pressure. Even Margaret's anxious eyes
+saw nothing more; and afterwards Myra often wondered what could have
+caused that tiny scar upon the whiteness of her arm.
+
+Before long she was quietly asleep. The doctor stood looking down upon
+her. There was tragedy to him in this perfect loveliness. Now the clear
+candour of the grey eyes was veiled, the childlike look was no longer
+there. It was the face of a woman--and of a woman who had lived, and who
+had suffered.
+
+Watching it, the doctor reviewed the history of those ten years of wedded
+life; piecing together that which she herself had told him; his own
+shrewd surmisings; and facts, which were common knowledge.
+
+So much for the past. The present, for a few hours at least, was merciful
+oblivion. What would the future bring? She had bravely and faithfully put
+from her all temptation to learn the glory of life, and the completeness
+of love, from any save from her own husband. And he had failed to teach.
+Can the deaf teach harmony, or the blind reveal the beauties of blended
+colour?
+
+But the future held no such limitations. The "garden enclosed" was no
+longer barred against all others by an owner who ignored its fragrance.
+The gate would be on the latch, though all unconscious until an eager
+hand pressed it, that its bolts and bars were gone, and it dare swing
+open wide.
+
+"Ah," mused the doctor. "Will the right man pass by? Youth teaches youth;
+but is there a man amongst us strong enough, and true enough, and pure
+enough, to teach this woman, nearing thirty, lessons which should have
+been learned during the golden days of girlhood. Surely somewhere on this
+earth the One Man walks, and works, and waits, to whom she is to be the
+One Woman? God send him her way, in the fulness of time."
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+And in that very hour--while at last Myra slept, and the doctor watched,
+and mused, and wondered--in that very hour, under an Eastern sky, a
+strong man, sick of life, worn and disillusioned, fighting a deadly
+fever, in the sultry atmosphere of a soldier's tent, cried out in
+bitterness of soul: "O God, let me die!" Then added the "never-the-less"
+which always qualifies a brave soul's prayer for immunity from pain:
+"Unless--unless, O God, there be still some work left on this earth which
+only I can do."
+
+And the doctor had just said: "Send him her way, O God, in the fulness of
+time."
+
+The two prayers reached the Throne of Omniscience together.
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+Deryck Brand, looking up, saw the quiet eyes of Margaret O'Mara gazing
+gratefully at him, across the bed. "Thank you," she whispered.
+
+He smiled. "Never to be done lightly, Mrs. O'Mara," he said. "Everything
+else should be tried first. But there are exceptions to the strictest
+rules, and it is fatal weakness to hesitate when confronted by the
+exception. Send for me, when she wakes; and, meanwhile, lie down on that
+couch yourself and have some sleep. You are worn out."
+
+The doctor turned away; but not before he had caught the sudden look of
+dumb anguish which leaped into those quiet eyes. He reached the door;
+paused a moment; then came back.
+
+"Mrs. O'Mara," he said, with a hand upon her shoulder, "you have a sorrow
+of your own?"
+
+She drew away from him, in terror. "Oh, hush!" she whispered. "Don't ask!
+Don't unnerve me, sir. Help me to think of her, only." Then, more calmly:
+"But of course I shall think of none but her, while she needs me.
+Only--only, sir--as you are so kind--" she drew from her bosom a crumpled
+telegram, and handed it to the doctor. "Mine came at the same time as
+hers," she said, simply.
+
+The doctor unfolded the War Office message.
+
+  Regret to report Sergeant O'Mara killed in assault on Targai
+  yesterday.
+
+"He was a good husband," said Margaret O'Mara, simply; "and we were very
+happy."
+
+The doctor held out his hand. "I am proud to have met you, Mrs. O'Mara.
+This seems to me the bravest thing I have ever known a woman do."
+
+She smiled through her tears. "Thank you, sir," she said, tremulously.
+"But it is easier to bear my own sorrow, when I have work to do for
+her."
+
+"God Himself comfort you, my friend," said Deryck Brand, and it was all
+he could trust his voice to say; nor was he ashamed that he had to fumble
+blindly for the handle of the door.
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+The doctor had finished breakfast, and was asking Groatley for a
+time-table, when word reached him that Lady Ingleby was awake. He went
+upstairs immediately.
+
+Myra was sitting up in bed, propped with pillows. Her cheeks were
+flushed; her eyes bright and hard.
+
+She held out her hand to the doctor.
+
+"How good you have been," she said, speaking very fast, in a high
+unnatural voice: "I am afraid I have given you a great deal of trouble. I
+don't remember much about last night, excepting that they said Michael
+had been killed. Has Michael really been killed, do you think? And will
+they give me details? Surely I have a right to know details. Nothing can
+alter the fact that I was Michael's wife, can it? Do go to breakfast,
+Maggie. There is nothing gained by standing there, smiling, and saying
+you do not want any breakfast. Everybody wants breakfast at nine o'clock
+in the morning. I should want breakfast, if Michael had not been killed.
+Tell her she ought to have breakfast, Sir Deryck. I believe she has been
+up all night. It is such a comfort to have her. She is so brave and
+bright; and so full of sympathy."
+
+"She is very brave," said the doctor; "and you are right as to her need
+of breakfast. Go down-stairs for a little while, Mrs. O'Mara. I will stay
+with Lady Ingleby."
+
+She moved obediently to the door; but Sir Deryck reached it before her.
+And the famous London specialist held the door open for the sergeant's
+young widow, with an air of deference such as he would hardly have
+bestowed upon a queen.
+
+Then he came back to Lady Ingleby. His train left in three-quarters of an
+hour. But his task here was not finished. She had slept; but before he
+dare leave her, she must weep.
+
+"Where is Peter?" inquired the excited voice from the bed. "He always
+barks to be let out, in the morning; but I have heard nothing of him
+yet."
+
+"He was exhausted last night, poor little chap," said the doctor. "He
+could scarcely walk. I carried him up, myself; and put him on the bed in
+the next room. The coat was still there, I wrapped him in it. He licked
+my hand, and lay down, content."
+
+"I want to see him," said Lady Ingleby. "Michael loved him. He seems all
+I have left of Michael."
+
+"I will fetch him," said the doctor.
+
+He went into the adjoining room, leaving the door ajar. Myra heard him
+reach the bed. Then followed a long silence.
+
+"What is it?" she called at last. "Is he not there? Why are you so
+long?"
+
+Then the doctor came back. He carried something in his arms, wrapped in
+the old shooting jacket.
+
+"Dear Lady Ingleby," he said, "little Peter is dead. He must have died
+during the night, in his sleep. He was lying just as I left him, curled
+up in the coat; but he is quite cold and stiff. Faithful little heart!"
+said the doctor, with emotion, holding his burden, tenderly.
+
+"What!" cried Myra, with both arms outstretched. "Peter has died, because
+Michael is dead; and I--I have not even shed a tear!" She fell back among
+the pillows in a paroxysm of weeping.
+
+The doctor stood by, silently; uncertain what to do. Myra's sobs grew
+more violent, shaking the bed with their convulsive force. Then she began
+to shriek inarticulately about Michael and Peter, and to sob again, with
+renewed violence.
+
+At that moment the doctor heard the horn of a motor-car in the avenue;
+then, almost immediately, the clang of the bell, and the sounds of an
+arrival below. A look of immense relief came into his face. He went to
+the top of the great staircase, and looked over.
+
+The Honourable Mrs. Dalmain had arrived. The doctor saw her tall figure,
+in a dark green travelling coat, walk rapidly across the hall.
+
+"Jane!" he said. "Jeanette! Ah, I knew you would not fail us! Come
+straight up. You have arrived at the right moment."
+
+Jane looked up, and saw the doctor standing at the top of the stairs;
+something wrapped in an old coat, held carefully in his arms. She threw
+him one smile of greeting and assurance; then, wasting no time in words,
+rapidly pulled off her coat, hat, and fur gloves, flinging them in quick
+succession to the astonished butler. The doctor only waited to see her
+actually mounting the stairs. Then, passing through Lady Ingleby's room,
+he laid Peter's little body back on his dead master's bed, still wrapped
+in the old tweed coat.
+
+As he stepped back into Lady Ingleby's room, closing the door between, he
+saw Jane Dalmain kneel down beside the bed, and gather the weeping form
+into her arms, with a gesture of immense protective tenderness.
+
+"Oh Jane," sobbed Lady Ingleby, as she hid her face in the sweet comfort
+of that generous bosom; "Oh Jane! Michael has been killed! And little
+Peter died, because Michael was dead. Little Peter _died_, and _I_ had
+not even shed a tear!"
+
+The doctor passed quickly out, closing the door behind him. He did not
+wait to hear the answer. He knew it would be wise, and kind, and right.
+He left his patient in safe hands. Jane was there, at last. All would be
+well.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+LADY INGLEBY'S REST-CURE
+
+
+From the moment when the express for Cornwall had slowly but irrevocably
+commenced to glide away from the Paddington platform; when she had looked
+her last upon Margaret O'Mara's anxious devoted face, softly framed in
+her simple widow's bonnet; when she had realised that her somewhat
+original rest-cure had really safely commenced, and that she was leaving,
+not only her worries, but her very identity behind her--Lady Ingleby had
+leaned back with closed eyes in a corner of her reserved compartment, and
+given herself up to quiet retrospection.
+
+The face, in repose, was sad--a quiet sadness, as of regret which held no
+bitterness. The cheek, upon which the dark fringe of lashes rested, was
+white and thin having lost the tint and contour of perfect health. But,
+every now and then, during those hours of retrospection, the wistful
+droop of the sweet expressive mouth curved into a smile, and a dimple
+peeped out unexpectedly, giving a look of youthfulness to the tired
+face.
+
+When London and, its suburbs were completely left behind, and the summer
+sunshine blazed through the window from the clear blue of a radiant June
+sky, Lady Ingleby leaned forward, watching the rapid unfolding of country
+lanes and hedges; wide commons, golden with gorse; fir woods, carpeted
+with blue-bells; mossy banks, overhung with wild roses, honeysuckle, and
+traveller's-joy; the indescribable greenness and soft fragrance of
+England in early summer; and, as she watched, a responsive light shone in
+her sweet grey eyes. The drear sadness of autumn, the deadness of winter,
+the chill uncertainty of spring--all these were over and gone. "Flowers
+appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come," murmurs
+the lover of Canticles; and in Myra Ingleby's sad heart there blossomed
+timidly, flowers of hope; vague promise of future joy, which life might
+yet hold in store. A blackbird in the hawthorn, trilled gaily; and Myra
+softly sang, to an air of Garth Dalmain's, the "Blackbird's Song."
+
+               "Wake, wake,
+               Sad heart!
+               Rise up, and sing!
+               On God's fair earth, 'mid blossoms blue.
+               Fresh hope must ever spring.
+               There is no room for sad despair,
+               When heaven's love is everywhere."
+
+Then, as the train sped onward through Wiltshire, Somerset, and Devon,
+Lady Ingleby felt the mantle of her despondence slipping from her, and
+reviewed the past, much as a prisoner might glance back into his dark
+narrow cell, from the sunlight of the open door, as he stood at last on
+the threshold of liberty.
+
+Seven months had gone by since, on that chill November evening, the news
+of Lord Ingleby's death had reached Shenstone. The happenings of the
+weeks which followed, now seemed vague and dreamlike to Myra, just a few
+events standing out clearly from the dim blur of misery. She remembered
+the reliable strength of the doctor; the unselfish devotion of Margaret
+O'Mara; the unspeakable comfort of Jane's wholesome understanding
+tenderness. Then the dreaded arrival of her mother; followed,
+immediately, according to promise, by the protective advent of Georgina,
+Duchess of Meldrum; after which, tragedy and comedy walked hand in hand;
+and the silence of mourning was enlivened by the "Hoity-toity!" of the
+duchess, and the indignant sniffs of Mrs. Coller-Cray.
+
+Later on, details of Lord Ingleby's death came to hand, and his widow had
+to learn that he had fallen--at the attempt upon Targai, it is true--but
+the victim of an accident; losing his life, not at the hands of the
+savage enemy, but through the unfortunate blunder of a comrade. Myra
+never very clearly grasped the details:--a wall to be undermined; his own
+patent and fearful explosive; the grim enthusiasm with which he insisted
+upon placing it himself, arranging to have it fired by his patent
+electrical plan. Then the mistaking of a signal; the fatal pressing of a
+button five minutes too soon; an electric flash in the mine, a terrific
+explosion, and instant death to the man whose skill and courage had made
+the gap through which crowds of cheering British soldiers, bursting from
+the silent darkness, dashed to expectant victory.
+
+When full details reached the War Office, a Very Great Personage called
+at her house in Park Lane personally to explain to Lady Ingleby the
+necessity for the hushing up of some of these greatly-to-be-deplored
+facts. The whole unfortunate occurrence had largely partaken of the
+nature of an experiment. The explosive, the new method of signalling, the
+portable electric plant--all these were being used by Lord Ingleby and
+the young officers who assisted him, more or less experimentally and
+unofficially. The man whose unfortunate mistake caused the accident had
+an important career before him. His name must not be allowed to
+transpire. It would be unfair that a future of great promise should be
+blighted by what was an obvious accident. The few to whom the name was
+known had been immediately pledged to secrecy. Of course it would be
+confidentially given to Lady Ingleby if she really desired to hear it,
+but----
+
+Then Myra took a very characteristic line. She sat up with instant
+decision; her pale face flushed, and her large pathetic grey eyes shone
+with sudden brightness.
+
+"Pardon me, sir," she said, "for interposing; but I never wish to know
+that name. My husband would have been the first to desire that it should
+not be told. And, personally, I should be sorry that there should be any
+man on earth whose hand I could not bring myself to touch in friendship.
+The hand that widowed me, did so without intention. Let it remain always
+to me an abstract instrument of the will of Providence. I shall never
+even try to guess to which of Michael's comrades that hand belonged."
+
+Lady Ingleby was honest in making this decision; and the Very Great
+Personage stepped into his brougham, five minutes later, greatly
+relieved, and filled with admiration for Lord Ingleby's beautiful and
+right-minded widow. She had always been all that was most charming. Now
+she added sound good sense, to personal charm. Excellent! Incomparable!
+Poor Ingleby! Poor--Ah! _he_ must not be mentioned, even in thought.
+
+Yes; Lady Ingleby was absolutely honest in coming to her decision. And
+yet, from that moment, two names revolved perpetually in her mind, around
+a ceaseless question--the only men mentioned constantly by Michael in his
+letters as being always with him in his experiments, sharing his
+interests and his dangers: Ronald Ingram, and Billy Cathcart--dear boys,
+both; her devoted adorers; almost her dearest, closest friends; faithful,
+trusted, tried. And now the haunting question circled around all thought
+of them: "Was it Ronald? Or was it Billy? Which? Billy or Ronnie? Ronnie
+or Billy?" Myra had said: "I shall never even try to guess," and she had
+said it honestly. She did not try to guess. She guessed, in spite of
+trying not to do so; and the certainty, and yet _un_certainty of her
+surmisings told on her nerves, becoming a cause of mental torment which
+was with her, subconsciously, night and day.
+
+Time went on. The frontier war was over. England, as ever, had been bound
+to win in the end; and England had won. It had merely been a case of
+time; of learning wisdom by a series of initial mistakes; of expending a
+large amount of British gold and British blood. England's supremacy was
+satisfactorily asserted; and, those of her brave troops who had survived
+the initial mistakes, came home; among them Ronald Ingram and Billy
+Cathcart; the former obviously older than when he went away, gaunt and
+worn, pale beneath his bronze, showing unmistakable signs of the effects
+of a severe wound and subsequent fever. "Too interesting for words," said
+the Duchess of Meldrum to Lady Ingleby, recounting her first sight of
+him. "If only I were fifty years younger than I am, I would marry the
+dear boy immediately, take him down to Overdene, and nurse him back to
+health and strength. Oh, you need not look incredulous, my dear Myra! I
+always mean what I say, as you very well know."
+
+But Lady Ingleby denied all suspicion of incredulity, and merely
+suggested languidly, that--bar the matrimonial suggestion--the programme
+was an excellent one, and might well be carried out. Young Ronald being
+of the same opinion, he was soon installed at Overdene, and had what he
+afterwards described as _the_ time of his life, being pampered, spoiled,
+and petted by the dear old duchess, and never allowing her to suspect
+that one of the chief attractions of Overdene lay in the fact that it was
+within easy motoring distance of Shenstone Park.
+
+Billy returned as young, as inconsequent, as irrepressible as ever. And
+yet in him also, Myra was conscious of a subtle change, for which she,
+all too readily, found a reason, far removed from the real one.
+
+The fact was this. Both young men, in their romantic devotion to her, had
+yet been true to their own manhood, and loyal, at heart, to Lord Ingleby.
+But their loyalty had always been with effort. Therefore, when--the
+strain relaxed--they met her again, they were intensely conscious of her
+freedom and of their own resultant liberty. This produced in them, when
+with her, a restraint and shyness which Myra naturally construed into a
+confirmation of her own suspicions. She, having never found it the
+smallest effort to remember she was Michael's, and to be faithful in
+every thought to him, was quite unconscious of her liberty. There having
+been no strain in remaining true to the instincts of her own pure,
+honest, honourable nature, there was no tension to relax.
+
+So it very naturally came to pass that when one day Ronald Ingram had sat
+long with her, silently studying his boots, his strong face tense and
+miserable, every now and then looking furtively at her, then, as his eyes
+met the calm friendliness of hers, dropping them again to the
+floor:--"Poor Ronnie," she mused, "with his 'important career' before
+him. Undoubtedly it was he who did it. And Billy knows it. See how
+fidgety Billy is, while Ronnie sits with me."
+
+But by-and-by it would be: "No; of course it was Billy--dear hot-headed
+impulsive young Billy; and Ronald, knowing it, feels guilty also. Poor
+little Billy, who was as a son to Michael! There was no mistaking the
+emotion in his face just now, when I merely laid my hand on his. Oh,
+impetuous scatter-brained boy!... Dear heavens! I wish he wouldn't hand
+me the bread-and-butter."
+
+Then, into this atmosphere of misunderstanding and uncertainty, intruded
+a fresh element. A first-cousin of Lord Ingleby's, to whom had come the
+title, minus the estates, came to the conclusion that title and estates
+might as well go together. To that end, intruding upon her privacy on
+every possible occasion, he proceeded to pay business-like court to Lady
+Ingleby.
+
+Thus rudely Myra awoke to the understanding of her liberty. At once, her
+whole outlook on life was changed. All things bore a new significance.
+Ronnie and Billy ceased to be comforts. Ronnie's nervous misery assumed a
+new importance; and, coupled with her own suspicions, filled her with a
+dismayed horror. The duchess's veiled jokes took point, and hurt. A sense
+of unprotected loneliness engulfed her. Every man became a prospective
+and dreaded suitor; every woman's remarks seemed to hold an innuendo. Her
+name in the papers distracted her.
+
+She recognised the morbidness of her condition, even while she felt
+unable to cope with it; and, leaving Shenstone suddenly, came up to town,
+and consulted Sir Deryck Brand.
+
+"Oh, my friend," she said, "help me! I shall never face life again."
+
+The doctor heard her patiently, aiding the recital by his strong
+understanding silence.
+
+Then he said, quietly: "Dear lady, the diagnosis is not difficult. Also
+there is but one possible remedy." He paused.
+
+Lady Ingleby's imploring eyes and tense expectancy, besought his
+verdict.
+
+"A rest-cure," said the doctor, with finality.
+
+"Horrors, no!" cried Myra; "Would you shut me up within four walls; cram
+me with rice pudding and every form of food I most detest; send a
+dreadful woman to pound, roll, and pommel me, and tell me gruesome
+stories; keep out all my friends, all letters, all books, all news; and,
+after six weeks send me out into the world again, with my figure gone,
+and not a sane thought upon any subject under the sun? Dear doctor, think
+of it! Stout, and an idiot! Oh, give me something in a bottle, to shake,
+and take three times a day--and let me go!"
+
+The doctor smiled. He was famed for his calm patience.
+
+"Your somewhat highly coloured description, dear Lady Ingleby, applies to
+a form of rest-cure such as I rarely, if ever, recommend. In your case it
+would be worse than useless. We should gain nothing by shutting you up
+with the one person who is doing you harm, and from whom we must contrive
+your escape."
+
+"The one person--?" queried Myra, wide-eyed.
+
+"A charming person," smiled the doctor, "where the rest of mankind are
+concerned; but very bad for you just now."
+
+"But--whom?" questioned Myra, again. "Whom can you mean?"
+
+"I mean Lady Ingleby," replied the doctor, gravely. "When I send you away
+for your rest-cure, Lady Ingleby with her worries and questionings,
+doubts and fears, must be left behind. I shall send you to a little
+out-of-the-world village on the wild sea coast of Cornwall, where you
+know nobody, and nobody knows you. You must go incognito, as 'Miss' or
+'Mrs.'--anything you please. Your rest-cure will consist primarily in
+being set free, for a time, from Lady Ingleby's position, predicament,
+and perplexities. You must send word to all intimate friends, telling
+them you are going into retreat, and they must not write until they hear
+again. You will have leave to write one letter a week, to one person
+only; and that person must be one of whom I can approve. You must eat
+plenty of wholesome food; roam about all day long in the open-air; rise
+early, retire early; live entirely in a simple, beautiful, wholesome
+present, firmly avoiding all remembrance of a sad past, and all
+anticipation of an uncertain future. Nobody is to know where you are,
+excepting myself, and the one friend to whom you may write. But we will
+arrange that somebody--say, for instance, your devoted attendant from the
+Lodge, shall hold herself free to come to you at an hour's notice, should
+you be overwhelmed with a sudden sense of loneliness. The knowledge of
+this, will probably keep the need from arising. You can communicate with
+me daily if you like, by letter or by telegram; but other people must not
+know where you are. I do not wish you followed by the anxious or restless
+thoughts of many minds. To-morrow I will give you the name of a place I
+recommend, and of a comfortable hotel where you can order rooms. It must
+be a place you have never seen, probably one of which you have never
+heard. We are nearing the end of May. I should like you to start on the
+first of June. If you want a house-party at Shenstone this summer, you
+may invite your guests for the first of July. Lady Ingleby will be at
+home again by then, fully able to maintain her reputation as a hostess of
+unequalled charm, graciousness, and popularity. Morbid self-consciousness
+is a condition of mind from which you have hitherto been so completely
+free, that this unexpected attack has altogether unnerved you, and
+requires prompt and uncompromising measures.... Yes, Jane Dalmain may be
+your correspondent. You could not have chosen better."
+
+This was the doctor's verdict and prescription; and, as his patients
+never disputed the one, or declined to take the other, Myra found
+herself, on "the glorious first of June" flying south in the Great
+Western express, bound for the little fishing village of Tregarth where
+she had ordered rooms at the Moorhead Inn, in the name of Mrs. O'Mara.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+AT THE MOORHEAD INN
+
+
+The ruddy glow of a crimson sunset illumined cliff and hamlet, tinting
+the distant ocean into every shade of golden glory, as Myra walked up the
+gravelled path to the rustic porch of the Moorhead Inn, and looked around
+her with a growing sense of excited refreshment.
+
+She had come on foot from the little wayside station, her luggage
+following in a barrow; and this mode of progression, minus a footman and
+maid, and carrying her own cloak, umbrella, and travelling-bag, was in
+itself a charming novelty.
+
+At the door, she was received by the proprietress, a stately lady in
+black satin, wearing a double row of large jet beads, who reminded her
+instantly of all Lord Ingleby's maiden aunts. She seemed an accentuated,
+dignified, concentrated embodiment of them all; and Myra longed for
+Billy, to share the joke.
+
+"Aunt Ingleby" requested Mrs. O'Mara to walk in, and hoped she had had a
+pleasant journey. Then she rang a very loud bell twice, in order to
+summon a maid to show her to her room; and, the maid not appearing at
+once, requested Mrs. O'Mara meanwhile to write her name in the visitors'
+book.
+
+Lady Ingleby walked into the hall, passing a smoking-room on the left,
+and, noting a door, with "Coffee Room" upon it in gold lettering, down a
+short passage immediately opposite. Up from the centre of the hall, on
+her right, went the rather wide old-fashioned staircase; and opposite to
+it, against the wall, between the smoking-room and a door labelled
+"Reception Room," stood a marble-topped table. Lying open upon this table
+was a ponderous visitors' book. A fresh page had been recently commenced,
+as yet only containing four names. The first three were dated May the
+8th, and read, in crabbed precise writing:
+
+  Miss Amelia Murgatroyd, Miss Eliza Murgatroyd, Miss Susannah
+  Murgatroyd ..... Lawn View, Putney.
+
+Below these, bearing date a week later, in small precise writing of
+unmistakable character and clearness, the name:
+
+  Jim Airth ..... London.
+
+Pen and ink lay ready, and, without troubling to remove her glove, Lady
+Ingleby wrote beneath, in large, somewhat sprawling, handwriting:
+
+  Mrs. O'Mara ..... The Lodge, Shenstone.
+
+A maid appeared, took her cloak and bag, and preceded her up the stairs.
+
+As she reached the turn of the staircase, Lady Ingleby paused, and looked
+back into the hall.
+
+The door of the smoking-room opened, and a very tall man came out, taking
+a pipe from the pocket of his loose Norfolk jacket. As he strolled into
+the hall, his face reminded her of Ronnie's, deep-bronzed and thin; only
+it was an older face--strong, rugged, purposeful. The heavy brown
+moustache could not hide the massive cut of chin and jaw.
+
+Catching sight of a fresh name in the book, he paused; then laying one
+large hand upon the table, bent over and read it.
+
+Myra stood still and watched, noting the broad shoulders, and the immense
+length of limb in the leather leggings.
+
+He appeared to study the open page longer than was necessary for the mere
+reading of the name. Then, without looking round, reached up, took a cap
+from the antler of a stag's head high up on the wall, stuck it on the
+back of his head; swung round, and went out through the porch, whistling
+like a blackbird.
+
+"Jim Airth," said Myra to herself, as she moved slowly on; "Jim Airth of
+_London_. What an address! He might just as well have put: 'of the
+world!' A cross between a guardsman and a cowboy; and very likely he will
+turn out to be a commercial-traveller." Then, as she reached the landing
+and came in sight of the rosy-cheeked maid, holding open the door of a
+large airy bedroom, she added with a whimsical smile: "All the same, I
+wish I had taken the trouble to write more neatly."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+MRS. O'MARA'S CORRESPONDENCE
+
+
+_Letter from Lady Ingleby to the Honourable Mrs. Dalmain._
+
+                                                     The Moorhead Inn,
+                                                   Tregarth, Cornwall.
+
+MY DEAR JANE,
+
+Having been here a week, I think it is time I commenced my first letter
+to you.
+
+How does it feel to be a person considered pre-eminently suitable to
+minister to a mind diseased? Doesn't it give you a sense of being, as it
+were, rice pudding, or Brand's essence, or Maltine; something essentially
+safe and wholesome? You should have heard how Sir Deryck jumped at you,
+as soon as your name was mentioned, tentatively, as my possible
+correspondent. I had barely whispered it, when he leapt, and clinched the
+matter. I believe "wholesome" was an adjective mentioned. I hope you do
+not mind, dear Jane. I must confess, I would sooner be macaroons or
+oyster-patties, even at the risk of giving my friends occasional
+indigestion. But then I have never gone in for the rôle of being helpful,
+in which you excel. Not that it is a "rôle" with you, dear Jane. Rather,
+it is an essential characteristic. You walk in, and find a hopeless
+tangle; gather up the threads in those firm capable hands; deftly sort
+and hold them; and, lo, the tangle is over; the skein of life is once
+more ready for winding!
+
+Well, there is not much tangle about me just now, thanks to our dear
+doctor's most excellent prescription. It was a veritable stroke of
+genius, this setting me free from myself. From the first day, the sense
+of emancipation was indescribable. I enjoy being addressed as "Ma'am"; I
+revel in being without a maid, though it takes me ages to do my hair, and
+I have serious thoughts of wearing it in pigtails down my back! When I
+remember the poor, harassed, exhausted, society-self I left behind, I
+feel like buying a wooden spade and bucket and starting out, all by
+myself, to build sand-castles on this delightful shore. I have no one to
+play with, for I am certain the Miss Murgatroyds--I am going to tell you
+of them--never made sand-castles; no, not even in their infancy, a
+century ago! They must always have been the sort of children who wore
+white frilled bloomers, poplin frocks, and large leghorn hats with
+ribbons tied beneath their excellent little chins, and walked demurely
+with their governess--looking shocked at other infants who whooped and
+ran. I feel inclined to whoop and run, now; and the Miss Murgatroyds are
+quite prepared to look shocked.
+
+But oh, the freedom of being nobody, and of having nothing to think of or
+do! And everything I see and hear gives me joy; a lark rising from the
+turf, and carolling its little self up into the blue; the great Atlantic
+breakers, pounding upon the shore; the fisher-folk, standing at the doors
+of their picturesque thatched cottages. All things seem alive, with an
+exuberance of living, to which I have long been a stranger.
+
+Do you know this coast, with its high moorland, its splendid cliffs; and,
+far below, its sand coves, and ever-moving, rolling, surging, deep green
+sea? Wonderful! Beautiful! Infinite!
+
+My Inn is charming; primitive, yet comfortable. We have excellent coffee,
+fried fish in perfection; real nursery toast, farm butter, and home-made
+bread. When you supplement these with marmalade and mulberry jam, other
+things all cease to be necessities.
+
+Stray travellers come and go in motors, merely lunching, or putting up
+for one night; but there are only four other permanent guests. These all
+furnish me with unceasing interest and amusement. The three Miss
+Murgatroyds--oh, Jane, they are so antediluvian and quaint! Three ancient
+sisters,--by name, Amelia, Eliza, and Susannah. Their villa at Putney
+rejoices in the name of "Lawn View"; so characteristic and suitable;
+because no view reaching beyond the limits of their own front lawn
+appears to these dear ladies to be worthy of regard. They never go
+abroad, "excepting to the Isle of Wight," because they "do not like
+foreigners." A party of quite charming Americans arrived just before
+dinner the other day, in an automobile, and kept us lively during their
+flying visit. They were cordial over the consommé; friendly over the
+fish; and quite confidential by the time we reached the third course.
+But, alas, these delightful cousins from the other side, were considered
+"foreigners" by the Miss Murgatroyds, who consequently encased themselves
+in the frigid armour of their own self-conscious primness; and passed the
+mustard, without a smile. I felt constrained, afterwards, to apologise
+for my country-women; but the Americans, overflowing with appreciative
+good-nature, explained that they had come over expressly in order to see
+old British relics of every kind. They asked me whether I did not think
+the Miss Murgatroyds might have stepped "right out of Dickens." I was
+fairly nonplussed, because I thought they were going to say "out of the
+ark"--you know how one mentally finishes a sentence as soon as it is
+begun?--and I simply dared not confess that I have not read Dickens!
+Alas, how ignorant of our own standard literature we are apt to feel when
+we talk with Americans, and find it completely a part of their everyday
+life.
+
+But I must tell you more about the Miss Murgatroyds--Amelia, Eliza, and
+Susannah. When quite at peace among themselves, which is not often, they
+are Milly, Lizzie, and Susie; but a little rift within the lute is marked
+by the immediate use of their full baptismal names. Poor Susannah being
+the youngest--the youthful side of sixty--and inclined to be kittenish
+and giddy, is very rarely "Susie." Miss Murgatroyd--Amelia--is stern and
+unbending. She wears a cameo brooch the size of a tablespoon, and lays
+down the law in precise and elegant English, even when asking Susie to
+pass the crumpets. Miss Eliza, the second sister, is meek and
+unoffending. Her attitude toward Miss Amelia is one of perpetual apology.
+She addresses Susie as "my dear love," excepting on occasions when
+Susie's behaviour has put her quite outside the pale. Then she calls her,
+"my _dear_ Susannah!" and sighs. I am inclined to think Miss Eliza
+suffers from a demonstrative nature, which has never had an outlet.
+
+But Susie is the lively one. Susie would be a flirt, if she dared, and if
+any man were bold enough to flirt with her under Miss Amelia's eye. Susie
+is barely fifty-five, and her elder sisters regard her as a mere child,
+and are very ready with reproof and correction. Susie has a pink and
+white complexion, a soft fat little face, and plump dimpled hands; and
+Susie is given to vanity. Jim Airth held open the door of the coffee-room
+for her one day, and Susie--I should say Susannah--has been in a flutter
+ever since. Poor naughty Susie! Miss Murgatroyd has changed her place at
+meals--they have a table in the centre of the room--and made her sit with
+her back to Jim Airth; who has a round table, all to himself, in the
+window.
+
+Now I must tell you about Jim Airth, and of a curious coincidence
+connected with him, which you must not repeat to the doctor, for fear he
+should move me on.
+
+Let me confess at once, that I am extremely interested in Jim Airth--and
+it is sweet and generous of me to admit it, for Jim Airth is not in the
+least interested in me! He rarely vouchsafes me a word or a glance. He is
+a bear, and a savage; but such a fine good-looking bear; and such a
+splendid and interesting savage! He is quite the tallest man I ever saw;
+with immense limbs, lean and big-boned; yet moves with the supple grace
+of an Indian. He was through that campaign last year, and had a terrible
+turn of sunstroke and fever, during which his head was shaved.
+Consequently his thick brown hair is now at the stage of standing
+straight up all over it like a bottle-brush. I know Susie longs to smooth
+it down; but that would be a task beyond Susie's utmost efforts. His
+brows are very stern and level; and his eyes, deep-set beneath them, of
+that gentian blue which makes one think of Alpine heights. They can flash
+and gleam, on occasions, and sometimes look almost purple. He wears a
+heavy brown moustache, and his jaw and chin are terrifying in their
+masterful strength. Yet he smokes an old briar pipe; whistles like a
+blackbird; and derives immense amusement from playing up to naughty
+Susie's coyness, when the cameo brooch is turned another way. I have seen
+his eyes twinkle with fun when Miss Susannah has purposely let fall her
+handkerchief, and he has reached out a long arm, picked it up, and
+restored it. Whereupon Susie has hastened out, in the wake of her
+sisters, in a blushing flutter; Miss Eliza turning to whisper: "Oh, my
+dear love! Oh Susannah!" I try, when these things happen, to catch Jim
+Airth's merry eye, and share the humour of the situation; but he stolidly
+sees the wall through me on all occasions, and would tread heavily on
+_my_ poor handkerchief, if I took to dropping it. Miss Murgatroyd tells
+me that he is a confirmed hater of feminine beauty; upon which poor Miss
+Susannah takes a surreptitious prink into the gold-framed mirror over the
+reception-room mantelpiece, and says, plaintively: "Oh, do not say that,
+Amelia!" But Amelia _does_ say "that"; and a good deal more!
+
+When first I saw Jim Airth, I thought him a cross between a cowboy and a
+guardsman; and I think so still. But what do you suppose he turns out to
+be, beside? An author! And, stranger still, he is writing an important
+book called _Modern Warfare; its Methods and Requirements_, in which he
+is explaining and working out many of Michael's ideas and experiments. He
+was right through that border war, and took part in the assault on
+Targai. He must have known Michael, intimately.
+
+All this information I have from Miss Murgatroyd. I sometimes sit with
+them in the reception-room after dinner, where they wind wool and
+knit--endless winding; perpetual knitting! At five minutes to ten, Miss
+Murgatroyd says; "Now, my dear Eliza. Now, Susannah," which is the signal
+for bestowing all their goods and chattels into black satin work-bags.
+Then, at ten o'clock precisely, Miss Murgatroyd rises, and they
+procession up to bed--ah, no! I beg their pardons. The Miss Murgatroyds
+never "go to bed." They all "retire to rest."
+
+Jim Airth and his doings form a favourite topic of conversation. They
+speak of him as "Mr. Airth," which sounds so funny. He is not the sort of
+person one ever could call "Mister." To me, he has been "Jim Airth," ever
+since I saw his name, in small neat writing, in the visitors' book. I had
+to put mine just beneath it, and of course I wrote "Mrs. O'Mara"; then,
+as an address seemed expected, added: "The Lodge, Shenstone." Just after
+I had written this, Jim Airth came into the hall, and stood quite still
+studying it. I saw him, from half-way up the stairs. At first I thought
+he was marvelling at my shocking handwriting; but now I believe the name
+"Shenstone" caught his eye. No doubt he knew it to be Michael's
+family-seat.
+
+Do you know, it was so strange, the other night, Miss Murgatroyd held
+forth in the reception-room about Michael's death. She explained that he
+was "the first to dash into the breach," and "fell with his face to the
+foe." She also added that she used to know "poor dear Lady Ingleby,"
+intimately. This was interesting, and seemed worthy of further inquiry.
+It turned out that she is a distant cousin of a weird old person who used
+to call every year on mamma, for a subscription to some society for
+promoting thrift among the inhabitants of the South Sea Islands. Dear
+mamma used annually to jump upon this courageous old party and flatten
+her out; and listening to the process was, to us, a fearful joy; but
+annually she returned to the charge. On one of these occasions, just
+before my marriage, Miss Murgatroyd accompanied her. Hence her intimate
+knowledge of "poor dear Lady Ingleby." Also she has a friend who, quite
+recently, saw Lady Ingleby driving in the Park; "and, poor thing, she had
+sadly gone off in looks." I felt inclined to prink in the golden mirror,
+after the manner of Susie, and exclaim: "Oh, do not say that, Amelia!"
+
+Isn't it queer the way in which such people as these worthy ladies, yearn
+to be able to say they know us; for really, when all is said and done,
+we are not very much worth knowing? I would rather know a cosmopolitan
+cowboy, such as Jim Airth, than half the titled folk on my visiting-list.
+
+But really, Jane, I must not mention him again, or you will think I am
+infected with Susie's flutter. Not so, my dear! He has shown me no little
+courtesies; given few signs of being conscious of my presence; barely
+returned my morning greeting, though my lonely table is just opposite
+his, in the large bay-window.
+
+But in this new phase of life, everything seems of absorbing interest,
+and the individuality of the few people I see, takes on an exaggerated
+importance. (Really that sentence might almost be Sir Deryck's!) Also, I
+really believe Jim Airth's peculiar fascination consists in the fact that
+I am conscious of his disapproval. If he thinks of me at all, it is not
+with admiration, nor even with liking. And this is a novel experience;
+for I have been spoilt by perpetual approval, and satiated by senseless
+and unmerited adulation.
+
+Oh Jane! As I walk along these cliffs, and hear the Atlantic breakers
+pounding against their base, far down below; as I watch the sea-gulls
+circling around on their strong white wings; as I realise the strength,
+the force, the liberty, in nature; the growth and progress which
+accompanies life; I feel I have never really lived. Nothing has ever felt
+_strong_, either beneath me, or around me, or against me. Had I once been
+mastered, and held, and made to do as another willed, I should have felt
+love was a reality, and life would have become worth living. But I have
+just dawdled through the years, doing exactly as I pleased; making
+mistakes, and nobody troubling to set me right; failing, and nobody
+disappointed that I had not succeeded.
+
+I realise now, that there is a key to life, and a key to love, which has
+never been placed in my hands. What it is, I know not. But if I ever
+learn, it will be from just such a man as Jim Airth. I have never really
+talked with him, yet I am so conscious of his strength and virility, that
+he stands to me, in the abstract, for all that is strongest in manhood,
+and most vital in life.
+
+Much of the benefit of my time here, quite unconsciously to himself,
+comes to me from him. When he walks into the house, whistling like a
+blackbird; when he hangs up his cap on an antler a foot or two higher
+than other people could reach; when he ploughs unhesitatingly through his
+meals, with a book or a paper stuck up in front of him; when he dumps his
+big boots out into the passage, long after the quiet house has hushed
+into repose, and I smile, in the darkness, at the thought of how the
+sound will have annoyed Miss Murgatroyd, startled Miss Eliza, and made
+naughty Miss Susannah's heart flutter;--when all these things happen
+every day, I am conscious that a clearer understanding of the past, a new
+strength for the future, and a fresh outlook on life, come to me, simply
+from the fact that he is himself, and that he is here. Jim Airth may not
+be a saint; but he is a _man!_
+
+Dear Jane, I should scarcely venture to send you this epistle, were it
+not for all the adjectives--"wholesome," "helpful," "understanding,"
+etc., which so rightly apply to you. _You_ will not misunderstand. Of
+that I have no fear. But do not tell the doctor more than that I am very
+well, in excellent spirits, and happier than I have ever been in my
+life.
+
+Tell Garth I loved his last song. How often I sing to myself, as I walk
+in the sea breeze and sunshine, the hairbells waving round my feet:
+
+              "On God's fair earth, 'mid blossoms blue,
+              Fresh hope must ever spring."
+
+I trust I sing it in tune; but I know I have not much ear.
+
+And how is your little Geoffrey? Has he the beautiful shining eyes, we
+all remember? I have often laughed over your account of his sojourn at
+Overdene, and of how our dear naughty old duchess stirred him up to rebel
+against his nurse. You must have had your hands full when you and Garth
+returned from America. Oh, Jane, how different my life would have been if
+I had had a little son! Ah, well!
+
+                  "There is no room for sad despair,
+                  When heaven's love is everywhere."
+
+Tell Garth, I love it; but I wish he wrote simpler accompaniments. That
+one beats me!
+
+                                           Yours, dear Jane,
+                                    Gratefully and affectionately,
+                                                         MYRA INGLEBY.
+
+                         --------------------
+
+_Letter from the Honourable Mrs. Dalmain to Lady Ingleby._
+
+                                                CASTLE GLENEESH, N. B.
+
+MY DEAR MYRA,
+
+No, I have not the smallest objection to representing rice pudding, or
+anything else plain and wholesome, providing I agree with you, and
+suffice for the need of the moment.
+
+I am indeed glad to have so good a report. It proves Deryck right in his
+diagnosis and prescription. Keep to the latter faithfully, in every
+detail.
+
+I am much interested in your account of your fellow-guests at the
+Moorhead Inn. No, I do not misunderstand your letter; nor do I credit you
+with any foolish sentimentality, or Susie-like flutterings. Jim Airth
+stands to you for an abstract thing--uncompromising manhood, in its
+strength and assurance; very attractive after the loneliness and sense of
+being cut adrift, which have been your portion lately. Only,
+remember--where living men and women are concerned, the safely abstract
+is apt suddenly to become the perilously personal; and your future
+happiness may be seriously involved, before you realise the danger. I
+confess, I fail to understand the man's avoidance of you. He sounds the
+sort of fellow who would be friendly and pleasant toward all women, and
+passionately loyal to one. Perhaps you, with your sweet loveliness--a
+fact, my dear, notwithstanding the observations in the Park, of Miss
+Amelia's crony!--may remind him of some long-closed page of past history,
+and he may shrink from the pain of a consequent turning of memory's
+leaves. No doubt Miss Susannah recalls some nice old maiden-aunt, and he
+can afford to respond to her blandishments.
+
+What you say of the way in which Americans know our standard authors,
+reminds me of a fellow-passenger on board the _Baltic_, on our outward
+voyage--a charming woman, from Hartford, Connecticut, who sat beside us
+at meals. She had been spending five months in Europe, travelling
+incessantly, and finished up with London--her first visit to our
+capital--expecting to be altogether too tired to enjoy it; but found it a
+place of such abounding interest and delight, that life went on with
+fresh zest, and fatigue was forgotten. "Every street," she explained, "is
+so familiar. We have never seen them before, and yet they are more
+familiar than the streets of our native cities. It is the London of
+Dickens and of Thackeray. We know it all. We recognise the streets as we
+come to them. The places are homelike to us. _We have known them all our
+lives._" I enjoyed this tribute to our English literature. But I wonder,
+my dear Myra, how many streets, east of Temple Bar, in our dear old
+London, are "homelike" to you!
+
+Garth insists upon sending you at once a selection of his favourites from
+among the works of Dickens. So expect a bulky package before long. You
+might read them aloud to the Miss Murgatroyds, while they knit and wind
+wool.
+
+Garth thoroughly enjoyed our trip to America. You know why we went? Since
+he lost his sight, all sounds mean so much to him. He is so boyishly
+eager to hear all there is to be heard in the world. Any possibility of a
+new sound-experience fills him with enthusiastic expectation, and away we
+go! He set his heart upon hearing the thunderous roar of Niagara, so off
+we went, by the White Star Line. His enjoyment was complete, when at last
+he stood close to the Horseshoe Fall, on the Canadian side, with his hand
+on the rail at the place where the spray showers over you, and the great
+rushing boom seems all around. And as we stood there together, a little
+bird on a twig beside us, began to sing!--Garth is putting it all into a
+symphony.
+
+How true is what you say of the genial friendliness of Americans! I was
+thinking it over, on our homeward voyage. It seems to me, that, as a
+rule, they are so far less self-conscious than we. Their minds are fully
+at liberty to go out at once, in keenest appreciation and interest, to
+meet a new acquaintance. Our senseless British greeting: "How do you
+do?"--that everlasting question, which neither expects nor awaits an
+answer, _can_ only lead to trite remarks about the weather; whereas
+America's "I am happy to meet you, Mrs. Dalmain," or "I am pleased to
+make your acquaintance, Lady Ingleby," is an open door, through which we
+pass at once to fuller friendliness. Too often, in the moment of
+introduction, the reserved British nature turns in upon itself,
+sensitively debating what impression it is making; nervously afraid of
+being too expansive; fearful of giving itself away. But, as I said, the
+American mind comes forth to meet us with prompt interest and
+appreciative expectation; and we make more friends, in that land of ready
+sympathies, in half an hour, than we do in half a year of our own stiff
+social functions. Perhaps you will put me down as biassed in my opinion.
+Well, they were wondrous good to Garth and me; and we depend so greatly
+upon people _saying_ exactly the right thing at the right moment. When
+friendly looks cannot be seen, tactful words become more than ever a
+necessity.
+
+Yes, little Geoff's eyes are bright and shining, and the true golden
+brown. In many other ways he is very like his father.
+
+Garth sends his love, and promises you a special accompaniment to the
+"Blackbird's Song," such as can easily be played with one finger!
+
+It seems so strange to address this envelope to Mrs. O'Mara. It reminds
+me of a time when I dropped my own identity and used another woman's
+name. I only wish your experiment might end as happily as mine.
+
+Ah, Myra dearest, there is a Best for every life! Sometimes we can only
+reach it by a rocky path or along a thorny way; and those who fear the
+pain, come to it not at all. But such of us as have attained, can testify
+that it is worth while. From all you have told me lately, I gather the
+Best has not yet come your way. Keep on expecting. Do not be content with
+less.
+
+We certainly must not let Deryck know that Jim Airth--what a nice
+name--was at Targai. He would move you on, promptly.
+
+Report again next week; and do abide, if necessary, beneath the safe
+chaperonage of the cameo brooch.
+
+                                         Yours, in all fidelity,
+                                                         JANE DALMAIN.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+IN HORSESHOE COVE
+
+
+Lady Ingleby sat in the honeysuckle arbour, pouring her tea from a little
+brown earthenware teapot, and spreading substantial slices of home-made
+bread with the creamiest of farm butter, when the aged postman hobbled up
+to the garden gate of the Moorhead Inn, with a letter for Mrs. O'Mara.
+
+For a moment she could scarcely bring herself to open an envelope bearing
+another name than her own. Then, smiling at her momentary hesitation, she
+tore it open with the keen delight of one, who, accustomed to a dozen
+letters a day, has passed a week without receiving any.
+
+She read Mrs. Dalmain's letter through rapidly; and once she laughed
+aloud; and once a sudden colour flamed into her cheeks.
+
+Then she laid it down, and helped herself to honey--real heather-honey,
+golden in the comb.
+
+She took up her letter again, and read it carefully, weighing each word.
+
+Then:--"Good old Jane!" she said; "that is rather neatly put: the 'safely
+abstract' becoming the 'perilously personal.' She has acquired the knack
+of terse and forceful phraseology from her long friendship with the
+doctor. I can do it myself, when I try; only, _my_ Sir Derycky sentences
+are apt merely to sound well, and mean nothing at all. And--after
+all--_does_ this of Jane's mean anything worthy of consideration? Could
+six foot five of abstraction--eating its breakfast in complete
+unconsciousness of one's presence, returning one's timid 'good-morning'
+with perfunctory politeness, and relegating one, while still debating the
+possibility of venturing a remark on the weather, to obvious
+oblivion--ever become perilously personal?"
+
+Lady Ingleby laughed again, returned the letter to its envelope, and
+proceeded to cut herself a slice of home-made currant cake. As she
+finished it, with a final cup of tea, she thought with amusement of the
+difference between this substantial meal in the honeysuckle arbour of the
+old inn garden, and the fashionable teas then going on in crowded
+drawing-rooms in town, where people hurried in, took a tiny roll of thin
+bread-and-butter, and a sip at luke-warm tea, which had stood
+sufficiently long to leave an abiding taste of tannin; heard or imparted
+a few more or less detrimental facts concerning mutual friends; then
+hurried on elsewhere, to a cucumber sandwich, colder tea, which had stood
+even longer, and a fresh instalment of gossip.
+
+"Oh, why do we do it?" mused Lady Ingleby. Then, taking up her scarlet
+parasol, she crossed the little lawn, and stood at the garden gate, in
+the afternoon sunlight, debating in which direction she should go.
+
+Usually her walks took her along the top of the cliffs, where the larks,
+springing from the short turf and clumps of waving harebells, sang
+themselves up into the sky. She loved being high above the sea, and
+hearing the distant thunder of the breakers on the rocks below.
+
+But to-day the steep little street, down through the fishing village, to
+the cove, looked inviting. The tide was out, and the sands gleamed
+golden.
+
+Also, from her seat in the arbour, she had seen Jim Airth's tall figure
+go swinging along the cliff edge, silhouetted against the clear blue of
+the sky. And one sentence in the letter she had just received, made this
+into a factor which turned her feet toward the shore.
+
+The friendly Cornish folk, sitting on their doorsteps in the sunshine,
+smiled at the lovely woman in white serge, who passed down their village
+street, so tall and graceful, beneath the shade of her scarlet parasol.
+An item in the doctor's prescription had been the discarding of widow's
+weeds, and it had seemed quite natural to Myra to come down to her first
+Cornish breakfast in a cream serge gown.
+
+Arrived at the shore, she turned in the direction she usually took when
+up above, and walked quickly along the firm smooth sand; pausing
+occasionally to pick up a beautifully marked stone, or to examine a
+brilliant sea-anemone or gleaming jelly-fish, left stranded by the tide.
+
+Presently she reached a place where the cliff jutted out toward the sea;
+and, climbing over slippery rocks, studded with shining pools in which
+crimson seaweed waved, crabs scudded sideways from her passing shadow,
+and darting shrimps flicked across and buried themselves hastily in the
+sand, Myra found herself in a most fascinating cove. The line of cliff
+here made a horseshoe, not quite half a mile in length. The little bay,
+within this curve, was a place of almost fairy-like beauty; the sand a
+soft glistening white, decked with delicate crimson seaweed. The cliffs,
+towering up above, gave welcome shadow to the shore; yet the sun behind
+them still gleamed and sparkled on the distant sea.
+
+Myra walked to the centre of the horseshoe; then, picking up a piece of
+driftwood, scooped out a comfortable hollow in the sand, about a dozen
+yards from the foot of the cliff; stuck her open parasol up behind it, to
+shield herself from the observation, from above, of any chance passer-by;
+and, settling comfortably into the soft hollow, lay back, watching,
+through half-closed lids, the fleeting shadows, the blue sky, the gently
+moving sea. Little white clouds blushed rosy red. An opal tint gleamed on
+the water. The moving ripple seemed too far away to break the restful
+silence.
+
+Lady Ingleby's eyelids drooped lower and lower.
+
+"Yes, my dear Jane," she murmured, dreamily watching a snow-white sail,
+as it rounded the point, curtseyed, and vanished from view; "undoubtedly
+a--a well-expressed sentence; but far from--from--being fact. The safely
+abstract could hardly require--a--a--a cameo----"
+
+The long walk, the sea breeze, the distant lapping of the water--all
+these combined had done their soothing work.
+
+Lady Ingleby slept peacefully in Horseshoe Cove; and the rising tide
+crept in.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+JIM AIRTH TO THE RESCUE
+
+
+An hour later, a man swung along the path at the summit of the cliffs,
+whistling like a blackbird.
+
+The sun was setting; and, as he walked, he revelled in the gold and
+crimson of the sky; in the opal tints upon the heaving sea.
+
+The wind had risen as the sun set, and breakers were beginning to pound
+along the shore.
+
+Suddenly something caught his eye, far down below.
+
+"By Jove!" he said. "A scarlet poppy on the sands!"
+
+He walked on, until his rapid stride brought him to the centre of the
+cliff above Horseshoe Cove.
+
+Then--"Good Lord!" said Jim Airth, and stood still.
+
+He had caught sight of Lady Ingleby's white skirt reposing on the sand,
+beyond the scarlet parasol.
+
+"Good Lord!" said Jim Airth.
+
+Then he scanned the horizon. Not a boat to be seen.
+
+His quick eye travelled along the cliff, the way he had come. Not a
+living thing in sight.
+
+On to the fishing village. Faint threads of ascending vapour indicated
+chimneys. "Two miles at least," muttered Jim Airth. "I could not run it
+and get back with a boat, under three quarters of an hour."
+
+Then he looked down into the cove.
+
+"Both ends cut off. The water will reach her feet in ten minutes; will
+sweep the base of the cliff, in twenty."
+
+Exactly beneath the spot where he stood, more than half way down, was a
+ledge about six feet long by four feet wide.
+
+Letting himself over the edge, holding to tufts of grass, tiny shrubs,
+jutting stones, cracks in the surface of the sandstone, he managed to
+reach this narrow ledge, dropping the last ten feet, and landing on it by
+an almost superhuman effort of balance.
+
+One moment he paused; carefully took its measure; then, leaning over,
+looked down. Sixty feet remained, a precipitous slope, with nothing to
+which foot could hold, or hand could cling.
+
+Jim Airth buttoned his Norfolk jacket, and tightened his belt. Then
+slipping, feet foremost off the ledge, he glissaded down on his back,
+bending his knees at the exact moment when his feet thudded heavily on to
+the sand.
+
+For a moment the shock stunned him. Then he got up and looked around.
+
+He stood, within ten yards of the scarlet parasol, on the small strip of
+sand still left uncovered by the rapidly advancing sweep of the rising
+tide.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+"YEO HO, WE GO!"
+
+
+"A cameo chaperonage," murmured Lady Ingleby, and suddenly opened her
+eyes.
+
+Sky and sea were still there, but between them, closer than sea or sky,
+looking down upon her with a tense light in his blue eyes, stood Jim
+Airth.
+
+"Why, I have been asleep!" said Lady Ingleby.
+
+"You have," said Jim Airth; "and meanwhile the sun has set, and--the tide
+has come up. Allow me to assist you to rise."
+
+Lady Ingleby put her hand into his, and he helped her to her feet. She
+stood beside him gazing, with wide startled eyes, at the expanse of sea,
+the rushing waves, the tiny strip of sand.
+
+"The tide seems very high," said Lady Ingleby.
+
+"Very high," agreed Jim Airth. He stood close beside her, but his eyes
+still eagerly scanned the water. If by any chance a boat came round the
+point there would still be time to hail it.
+
+"We seem to be cut off," said Lady Ingleby.
+
+"We _are_ cut off," replied Jim Airth, laconically.
+
+"Then I suppose we must have a boat," said Lady Ingleby.
+
+"An excellent suggestion," replied Jim Airth, drily, "if a boat were to
+be had. But, unfortunately, we are two miles from the hamlet, and this is
+not a time when boats pass in and out; nor would they come this way. When
+I saw you, from the top of the cliff, I calculated the chances as to
+whether I could reach the boats, and be back here in time. But, before I
+could have returned with a boat, you would have--been very wet," finished
+Jim Airth, somewhat lamely.
+
+He looked at the lovely face, close to his shoulder. It was pale and
+serious, but showed no sign of fear.
+
+He glanced at the point of cliff beyond. Twenty feet above its rocky base
+the breakers were dashing; but round that point would be safety.
+
+"Can you swim?" asked Jim Airth, eagerly.
+
+Myra's calm grey eyes met his, steadily. A gleam of amusement dawned in
+them.
+
+"If you put your hand under my chin, and count 'one--two! one--two!' very
+loud and quickly, I can swim nearly ten yards," she said.
+
+Jim Airth laughed. His eyes met hers, in sudden comprehending
+comradeship. "By Jove, you're plucky!" they seemed to say. But what he
+really said was: "Then swimming is no go."
+
+"No go, for me," said Myra, earnestly, "nor for you, weighted by me. We
+should never get round that eddying whirlpool. It would merely mean that
+we should both be drowned. But you can easily do it alone. Oh, go at
+once! Go quickly! And--don't look back. I shall be all right. I shall
+just sit down against the cliff, and wait. I have always been fond of the
+sea."
+
+Jim Airth looked at her again. And, this time, open admiration shone in
+his keen eyes.
+
+"Ah, brave!" he said. "A mother of soldiers! Such women make of us a
+fighting race."
+
+Myra laid her hand on his sleeve. "My friend," she said, "it was never
+given me to be a mother. But I am a soldier's daughter, and a soldier's
+widow; and--I am not afraid to die. Oh, I do beg of you--give me one
+handclasp and go!"
+
+Jim Airth took the hand held out, but he kept it firmly in his own.
+
+"You shall not die," he said, between his teeth. "Do you suppose I would
+leave any woman to die alone? And _you_--you, of all women!--By heaven,"
+he repeated, doggedly; "you shall not die. Do you think I could go; and
+leave--" he broke off abruptly.
+
+Myra smiled. His hand was very strong, and her heart felt strangely
+restful. And had he not said: "_You_, of all women?" But, even in what
+seemed likely to be her last moments, Lady Ingleby's unfailing instinct
+was to be tactful.
+
+"I am sure you would leave no woman in danger," she said; "and some,
+alas! might have been easier to save than I. Plump little Miss Susie
+would have floated."
+
+Jim Airth's big laugh rang out. "And Miss Murgatroyd could have sailed
+away in her cameo," he said.
+
+Then, as if that laugh had broken the spell which held him inactive:
+"Come," he cried, and drew her to the foot of the cliff; "we have not a
+moment to lose! Look! Do you see the way I came down? See that long slide
+in the sand? I tobogganed down there on my back. Pretty steep, and
+nothing to hold to, I admit; but not so very far up, after all. And,
+where my slide begins, is a blessed ledge four foot by six." He pulled
+out a huge clasp-knife, opened the largest blade, and commenced hacking
+steps in the face of the cliff. "We must climb," said Jim Airth.
+
+"I have never climbed," whispered Myra's voice behind him.
+
+"You must climb to-day," said Jim Airth.
+
+"I could never even climb trees," whispered Myra.
+
+"You must climb a cliff to-night. It is our only chance."
+
+He hacked on, rapidly.
+
+Suddenly he paused. "Show me your reach," he said. "Mine would not do.
+Put your left hand there; so. Now stretch up with your right; as high as
+you can, easily.... Ah! three foot six, or thereabouts. Now your left
+foot close to the bottom. Step up with your right, as high as you can
+comfortably.... Two foot, nine. Good! One step, more or less, might make
+all the difference, by-and-by. Now listen, while I work. What a God-send
+for us that there happens to be, just here, this stratum of soft sand. We
+should have been done for, had the cliff been serpentine marble. You must
+choose between two plans. I could scrape you a step, wider than the
+rest--almost a ledge--just out of reach of the water, leaving you there,
+while I go on up, and finish. Then I could return for you. You could
+climb in front, I helping from below. You would feel safer. Or--you must
+follow me up now, step by step, as I cut them."
+
+"I could not wait on a ledge alone," said Myra. "I will follow you, step
+by step."
+
+"Good," said Jim Airth; "it will save time. I am afraid you must take off
+your shoes and stockings. Nothing will do for this work, but naked feet.
+We shall need to stick our toes into the sand, and make them cling on
+like fingers."
+
+He pulled off his own boots and stockings; then drew the belt from his
+Norfolk jacket, and fastened it firmly round his left ankle in such a way
+that a long end would hang down behind him as he mounted.
+
+"See that?" he said. "When you are in the niches below me, it will hang
+close to your hands. If you are slipping, and feel you _must_ clutch at
+something, catch hold of that. Only, if possible, shout first, and I will
+stick on like a limpet, and try to withstand the strain. But don't do it,
+unless really necessary."
+
+He picked up Myra's shoes and stockings, and put them into his big
+pockets.
+
+At that moment an advance wave rushed up the sand and caught their bare
+feet.
+
+"Oh, Jim Airth," cried Myra, "go without me! I have not a steady head. I
+cannot climb."
+
+He put his hands upon her shoulders, and looked full into her eyes.
+
+"You _can_ climb," he said. "You _must_ climb. You _shall_ climb. We must
+climb--or drown. And, remember: if you fall, I fall too. You will not be
+saving me, by letting yourself go."
+
+She looked up into his eyes, despairingly. They blazed into hers from
+beneath his bent brows. She felt the tremendous mastery of his will. Her
+own gave one final struggle.
+
+"I have nothing to live for, Jim Airth," she said. "I am alone in the
+world."
+
+"So am I," he cried. "I have been worse than alone, for a half score of
+years. But there is _life_ to live for. Would you throw away the highest
+of all gifts? I want to live--Good God! I _must_ live; and so must you.
+We live or die together."
+
+He loosed her shoulders and took her by the wrists. He lifted her
+trembling hands, and held them against his breast.
+
+For a moment they stood so, in absolute silence.
+
+Then Myra felt herself completely dominated. All fear slipped from her;
+but the assurance which took its place was his courage, not hers; and she
+knew it. Lifting her head, she smiled at him, with white lips.
+
+"I shall not fall," she said.
+
+Another wave swept round their ankles, and remained there.
+
+"Good," said Jim Airth, and loosed her wrists. "We shall owe our lives to
+each other. Next time I look into your face, please God, we shall be in
+safety. Come!"
+
+He sprang up the face of the cliff, standing in the highest niches he had
+made.
+
+"Now follow me, carefully," he said; "slowly, and carefully. We are not
+in a position to hurry. Always keep each hand and each foot firmly in a
+niche. Are you there? Good!... Now don't look either up or down, but keep
+your eyes on my heels. Directly I move, come on into the empty places.
+See?... Now then. Can you manage?... Good! On we go! After all it won't
+take long.... I say, what fun if the Miss Murgatroyds peeped over the
+cliff! Amelia would be so shocked at our bare feet. Eliza would cry: 'Oh
+my dear love!' And Susie would promptly fall upon us! Hullo! Steady down
+there! Don't laugh too much.... Fine knife, this. I bought it in Mexico.
+And if the big blade gives out, there are two more; also a saw, and a
+cork-screw.... Mind the falling sand does not get into your eyes.... Tell
+me if the niches are not deep enough, and remember there is no hurry, we
+are not aiming to catch any particular train! Steady down there! Don't
+laugh.... Up we go! Oh, good! This is a third of the way. Don't look
+either up or down. Watch my heels--I wish they were more worth looking
+at--and remember the belt is quite handy, and I am as firm as a rock up
+here. You and all the Miss Murgatroyds might hang on to it together.
+Steady down there!... All right; I won't mention them.... By the way, the
+water must be fairly deep below us now. If you fell, you would merely get
+a ducking. I should slide down and pull you out, and we would start
+afresh.... Good Lord!... Oh, never mind! Nothing. Only, my knife slipped,
+but I caught it again.... We must be half way, by now. How lucky we have
+my glissading marks to guide us. I can't see the ledge from here. Let's
+sing 'Nancy Lee.' I suppose you know it. I can always work better to a
+good rollicking tune."
+
+Then, as he drove his blade into the cliff, Jim Airth's gay voice rang
+out:
+
+                 "Of all the wives as e'er you know,
+                 Yeo ho! lads! ho!
+                 Yeo ho! Yeo ho!
+                 There's none like Nancy Lee, I trow,
+                 Yeo ho! lads! ho!
+                 Yeo ho!
+                 See there she stands
+
+--Blow! I've struck a rock! Not a big one though. Remember this step will
+be slightly more to your right
+
+                --and waves her hands,
+                Upon the quay,
+                And ev'ry day when I'm away,
+                She'll watch for me;
+                And whisper low, when tempests blow--
+
+Oh, hang these unexpected stones! That's finished my big blade!
+
+                      --For Jack at sea,
+                      Yeo ho! lads, ho! Yeo ho!
+
+Now the chorus.
+
+           The sailor's wife the sailor's star shall be,--
+
+Come on! You sing too!"
+
+                           "Yeo ho! we go,
+                           Across the sea!"
+
+came Lady Ingleby's voice from below, rather faint and quavering.
+
+"That's right!" shouted Jim Airth. "Keep it up! I can see the ledge now,
+just above us.
+
+                 The bo's'n pipes the watch below,
+                 Yeo ho! lads! ho!
+                 Yeo ho! Yeo ho!
+                 Then here's a health afore we go,
+                 Yeo ho! lads! ho!
+                 Yeo ho!
+                 A long, long life to my sweet wife,
+                 And mates at sea
+
+--Keep it up down there! I have one hand on the ledge--
+
+                  And keep our bones from Davy Jones
+                  Where'er we be!"
+
+                     "And--keep our bones--from--
+                     Davy Jones--who e'er he be,"
+
+quavered Lady Ingleby, making one final effort to move up into the vacant
+niches, though conscious that her fingers and toes were so numb that she
+could not feel them grip the sand.
+
+Then Jim Airth's whole body vanished suddenly from above her, as he drew
+himself on to the ledge.
+
+"_Yeo ho! we go_!" Came his gay voice from above.
+
+                         _"Yeo ho! Yeo ho!"_
+
+sang Lady Ingleby, in a faint whisper.
+
+She could not move on into the empty niches. She could only remain where
+she was, clinging to the face of the cliff.
+
+She suddenly thought of a fly on a wall; and remembered a particular fly,
+years ago, on her nursery wall. She had followed its ascent with a small
+interested finger, and her nurse had come by with a duster, and saying:
+"Nasty thing!" had ruthlessly flicked it off. The fly had fallen--fallen
+dead, on the nursery carpet.... Lady Ingleby felt she too was falling.
+She gave one agonised glance upward to the towering cliff, with the line
+of sky above it. Then everything swayed and rocked. "A mother of
+soldiers," her brain insisted, "must fall without screaming." Then--A
+long arm shot down from above; a strong hand gripped her firmly.
+
+"One step more," said Jim Airth's voice, close to her ear, "and I can
+lift you."
+
+She made the effort, and he drew her on to the ledge beside him.
+
+"Thank you very much," said Lady Ingleby. "And who was Davy Jones?"
+
+Jim Airth's face was streaming with perspiration. His mouth was full of
+sand. His heart was beating in his throat. But he loved to play the game,
+and he loved to see another do it. So he laughed as he put his arm around
+her, holding her tightly so that she should not realise how much she was
+trembling.
+
+"Davy Jones," he said, "is a gentleman who has a locker at the bottom of
+the sea, into which all drown'd things go. I am afraid your pretty
+parasol has gone there, and my boots and stockings. But we may well spare
+him those.... Oh, I say!.... Yes, do have a good cry. Don't mind me. And
+don't you think between us we could remember some sort of a prayer? For
+if ever two people faced death together, we have faced it; and, by God's
+mercy, here we are--alive."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+'TWIXT SEA AND SKY
+
+
+Myra never forgot Jim Airth's prayer. Instinctively she knew it to be the
+first time he had voiced his soul's thanksgiving or petitions in the
+presence of another. Also she realised that, for the first time in her
+whole life, prayer became to her a reality. As she crouched on the ledge
+beside him, shaking uncontrollably, so that, but for his arm about her,
+she must have lost her balance and fallen; as she heard that strong soul
+expressing in simple unorthodox language its gratitude for life and
+safety, mingled with earnest petition for keeping through the night and
+complete deliverance in the morning; it seemed to Myra that the heavens
+opened, and the felt presence of God surrounded them in their strange
+isolation.
+
+An immense peace filled her. By the time those disjointed halting
+sentences were finished, Myra had ceased trembling; and when Jim Airth,
+suddenly at a loss how else to wind up his prayer, commenced "Our Father,
+Who art in heaven," Myra's sweet voice united with his, full of an
+earnest fervour of petition.
+
+At the final words, Jim Airth withdrew his arm, and a shy silence fell
+between them. The emotion of the mind had awakened an awkwardness of
+body. In that uniting "_Our_ Father," their souls had leapt on, beyond
+where their bodies were quite prepared to follow.
+
+Lady Ingleby saved the situation. She turned to Jim Airth, with that
+impulsive sweetness which could never be withstood. In the rapidly
+deepening twilight, he could just see the large wistful grey eyes, in the
+white oval of her face.
+
+"Do you know," she said, "I really couldn't possibly sit all night, on a
+ledge the size of a Chesterfield sofa, with a person I had to call 'Mr.'
+I could only sit there with an old and intimate friend, who would
+naturally call me 'Myra,' and whom I might call 'Jim.' Unless I may call
+you 'Jim,' I shall insist on climbing down and swimming home. And if you
+address me as 'Mrs. O'Mara,' I shall certainly become hysterical, and
+tumble off!"
+
+"Why of course," said Jim Airth. "I hate titles of any kind. I come of an
+old Quaker stock, and plain names with no prefixes always seem best to
+me. And are we not old and trusted friends? Was not each of those minutes
+on the face of the cliff, a year? While that second which elapsed between
+the slipping of my knife from my right hand and the catching of it,
+against my knee, by my left, may go at ten years! Ah, think if it had
+dropped altogether! No, don't think. We were barely half way up. Now you
+must contrive to put on your shoes and stockings." He produced them from
+his pocket. "And then we must find out how to place ourselves most
+comfortably and safely. We have but one enemy to fight during the next
+seven hours--cramp. You must tell me immediately if you feel it
+threatening anywhere, I have done a lot of scouting in my time, and know
+a dodge or two. I also know what it is to lie in one position for hours,
+not daring to move a muscle, the cold sweat pouring off my face, simply
+from the agonies of cramp. We must guard against that."
+
+"Jim," said Myra, "how long shall we have to sit here?"
+
+He made a quick movement, as if the sound of his name from her lips for
+the first time, meant much to him; and there was in his voice an added
+depth of joyousness, as he answered:
+
+"It would be impossible to climb from here to the top of the cliff. When
+I came down, I had a sheer drop of ten feet. You see the cliff slightly
+overhangs just above us. So far as the tide is concerned we might clamber
+down in three hours; but there is no moon, and by then, it will be pitch
+dark. We must have light for our descent, if I am to land you safe and
+unshaken at the bottom. Dawn should be breaking soon after three. The sun
+rises to-morrow at 3.44; but it will be quite light before then. I think
+we may expect to reach the Moorhead Inn by 4 A.M. Let us hope Miss
+Murgatroyd will not be looking out of her window, as we stroll up the
+path."
+
+"What are they all thinking now?" questioned Lady Ingleby.
+
+"I don't know, and I don't care," said Jim Airth, gaily. "You're alive,
+and I'm alive; and we've done a record climb! Nothing else matters."
+
+"No, but seriously, Jim?"
+
+"Well, seriously, it is very unlikely that I shall be missed at all. I
+often dine elsewhere, and let myself in quite late; or stop out
+altogether. How about you?"
+
+"Why, curiously enough," said Myra, "before coming out I locked my
+bedroom door. I have the key here. I had left some papers lying about--I
+am not a very tidy person. On the only other occasion upon which I locked
+my door, I omitted dinner altogether, and went to bed on returning from
+my evening walk. I am supposed to be doing a 'rest-cure' here. The maid
+tried my door, went away, and did not turn up again until next morning.
+Most likely she has done the same to-night."
+
+"Then I don't suppose they will send out a search-party," said Jim
+Airth.
+
+"No. We are so alone down here. We only matter to ourselves," said Myra.
+
+"And to each other," said Jim Airth, quietly.
+
+Myra's heart stood still.
+
+Those four words, spoken so simply by that deep tender voice, meant more
+to her than any words had ever meant. They meant so much, that they made
+for themselves a silence--a vast holy temple of wonder and realisation
+wherein they echoed back and forth, repeating themselves again and
+again.
+
+The two on the ledge sat listening.
+
+The chant of mutual possession, so suddenly set going, was too beautiful
+a thing to be interrupted by other words.
+
+Even Lady Ingleby's unfailing habit of tactful speech was not allowed to
+spoil the deep sweetness of this unexpected situation. Myra's heart was
+waking; and when the heart is stirred, the mind sometimes forgets to be
+tactful.
+
+At length:--"Don't you remember," he said, very low, "what I told you
+before we began to climb? Did I not say, that if we succeeded in reaching
+the ledge safely, we should owe our lives to each other? Well, we did;
+and--we do."
+
+"Ah, no," cried Myra, impulsively. "No, Jim Airth! You--glad, and safe,
+and free--were walking along the top of these cliffs. I, in my senseless
+folly, lay sleeping on the sand below, while the tide rose around me. You
+came down into danger to save me, risking your life in so doing. I owe
+you my life, Jim Airth; you owe me nothing."
+
+The man beside her turned and looked at her, with his quiet whimsical
+smile.
+
+"I am not accustomed to have my statements amended," he said, drily.
+
+It was growing so dark, they could only just discern each other's faces.
+
+Lady Ingleby laughed. She was so unused to that kind of remark, that, at
+the moment she could frame no suitable reply.
+
+Presently:--"I suppose I really owe my life to my scarlet parasol," she
+said. "Had it not attracted your attention, you would not have seen me."
+
+"Should I not?" questioned Jim Airth, his eyes on the white loveliness of
+her face. "Since I saw you first, on the afternoon of your arrival, have
+you ever once come within my range of vision without my seeing you, and
+taking in every detail?"
+
+"On the afternoon of my arrival?" questioned Lady Ingleby, astonished.
+
+"Yes," replied Jim Airth, deliberately. "Seven o'clock, on the first of
+June. I stood at the smoking-room window, at a loose end of all things;
+sick of myself, dissatisfied with my manuscript, tired of fried
+fish--don't laugh; small things, as well as great, go to make up the sum
+of a man's depression. Then the gate swung back, and YOU--in golden
+capitals--the sunlight in your eyes, came up the garden path. I judged
+you to be a woman grown, in years perhaps not far short of my own age; I
+guessed you a woman of the world, with a position to fill, and a
+knowledge of men and things. Yet you looked just a lovely child, stepping
+into fairy-land; the joyful surprise of unexpected holiday danced in your
+radiant eyes. Since then, the beautiful side of life has always been
+you--YOU, in golden capitals."
+
+Jim Airth paused, and sat silent.
+
+It was quite dark now.
+
+Myra slipped her hand into his, which closed upon it with a strong
+unhesitating clasp.
+
+"Go on, Jim," she said, softly.
+
+"I went out into the hall, and saw your name in the visitors' book. The
+ink was still wet. The handwriting was that of the holiday-child--I
+should like to set you copies! The name surprised me--agreeably. I had
+expected to be able at once to place the woman who had walked up the
+path. It was a surprise and a relief to find that my Fairy-land Princess
+was not after all a fashionable beauty or a society leader, but owned
+just a simple Irish name, and lived at a Lodge."
+
+"Go on, Jim," said Lady Ingleby, rather tremulously.
+
+"Then the name 'Shenstone' interested me, because I know the Inglebys--at
+least, I knew Lord Ingleby, well; and I shall soon know Lady Ingleby. In
+fact I have written to-day asking for an interview. I must see her on
+business connected with notes of her husband's which, if she gives
+permission, are to be embodied in my book. I suppose if you live near
+Shenstone Park you know the Inglebys?"
+
+"Yes," said Myra. "But tell me, Jim; if--if you noticed so much that
+first day; if you were--interested; if you wanted to set me copies--yes,
+I know I write a shocking hand;--why would you never look at me? Why were
+you so stiff and unfriendly? Why were you not as nice to me as you were
+to Susie, for instance?"
+
+Jim Airth sat long in silence, staring out into the darkness. At last he
+said:
+
+"I want to tell you. Of course, I _must_ tell you. But--may I ask a few
+questions first?"
+
+Lady Ingleby also gazed unseeingly into the darkness; but she leaned a
+little nearer to the broad shoulder beside her. "Ask me what you will,"
+she said. "There is nothing, in my whole life, I would not tell you, Jim
+Airth."
+
+Her cheek was so close to the rough Norfolk jacket, that if it had moved
+a shade nearer, she would have rested against it. But it did not move;
+only, the clasp on her hand tightened.
+
+"Were you married very young?" asked Jim Airth.
+
+"I was not quite eighteen. It is ten years ago."
+
+"Did you marry for love?"
+
+There was a long silence, while both looked steadily into the darkness.
+
+Then Myra answered, speaking very slowly. "To be quite honest, I think I
+married chiefly to escape from a very unhappy home. Also I was very
+young, and knew nothing--nothing of life, and nothing of love; and--how
+can I explain, Jim Airth?--I have not learnt much during these ten long
+years."
+
+"Have you been unhappy?" He asked the question very low.
+
+"Not exactly unhappy. My husband was a very good man; kind and patient,
+beyond words, towards me. But I often vaguely felt I was missing the Best
+in life. Now--I know I was."
+
+"How long have you been--How long has he been dead?" The deep voice was
+so tender, that the question could bring no pain.
+
+"Seven months," replied Lady Ingleby. "My husband was killed in the
+assault on Targai."
+
+"At Targai!" exclaimed Jim Airth, surprised into betraying his
+astonishment. Then at once recovering himself: "Ah, yes; of course. Seven
+months. I was there, you know."
+
+But, within himself, he was thinking rapidly, and much was becoming
+clear.
+
+Sergeant O'Mara! Was it possible? An exquisite refined woman such as
+this, bearing about her the unmistakable hall-mark of high birth and
+perfect breeding? The Sergeant was a fine fellow, and superior--but, good
+Lord! _Her_ husband! Yet girls of eighteen do foolish things, and repent
+ever after. A runaway match from an unhappy home; then cast off by her
+relations, and now left friendless and alone. But--Sergeant O'Mara! Yet
+no other O'Mara fell at Targai; and there _was_ some link between him and
+Lord Ingleby.
+
+Then, into his musing, came Myra's soft voice, from close beside him, in
+the darkness: "My husband was always good to me; but----"
+
+And Jim Airth laid his other hand over the one he held. "I am sure he
+was," he said, gently. "But if you had been older, and had known more of
+love and life you would have done differently. Don't try to explain. I
+understand."
+
+And Myra gladly left it at that. It would have been so very difficult to
+explain further, without explaining Michael; and all that really mattered
+was, that--with or without explanation--Jim Airth understood.
+
+"And now--tell me," she suggested, softly.
+
+"Ah, yes," he said, pulling himself together, with an effort. "My
+experience also misses the Best, and likewise covers ten long years. But
+it is a harder one than yours. I married, when a boy of twenty-one, a
+woman, older than myself; supremely beautiful. I went mad over her
+loveliness. Nothing seemed to count or matter, but that. I knew she was
+not a good woman, but I thought she might become so; and even if she
+didn't it made no difference. I wanted her. Afterwards I found she had
+laughed at me, all the time. Also, there had all the time been
+another--an older man than I--who had laughed with her. He had not been
+in a position to marry her when I did; but two years later, he came into
+money. Then--she left me."
+
+Jim Airth paused. His voice was hard with pain. The night was very black.
+In the dark silence they could hear the rhythmic thunder of the waves
+pounding monotonously against the cliff below.
+
+"I divorced her, of course; and he married her; but I went abroad, and
+stayed abroad. I never could look upon her as other than my wife. She had
+made a hell of my life; robbed me of every illusion; wrecked my ideals;
+imbittered my youth. But I had said, before God, that I took her for my
+wife, until death parted us; and, so long as we were both alive, what
+power could free me from that solemn oath? It seemed to me that by
+remaining in another hemisphere, I made her second marriage less sinful.
+Often, at first, I was tempted to shoot myself, as a means of righting
+this other wrong. But in time I outgrew that morbidness, and realised
+that though Love is good, Life is the greatest gift of all. To throw it
+away, voluntarily, is an unpardonable sin. The suicide's punishment
+should be loss of immortality. Well, I found work to do, of all sorts, in
+America, and elsewhere. And a year ago--she died. I should have come
+straight home, only I was booked for that muddle on the frontier they
+called 'a war.' I got fever after Targai; was invalided home; and here I
+am recruiting and finishing my book. Now you can understand why
+loveliness in a woman, fills me with a sort of panic, even while a part
+of me still leaps up instinctively to worship it. I had often said to
+myself that if I ever ventured upon matrimony again, it should be a plain
+face, and a noble heart; though all the while I knew I should never bring
+myself really to want the plain face. And yet, just as the burnt child
+dreads the fire, I have always tried to look away from beauty. Only--my
+Fairy-land Princess, may I say it?--days ago I began to feel certain that
+in you--YOU in golden capitals--the loveliness and the noble heart went
+together. But from the moment when, stepping out of the sunset, you
+walked up the garden path, right into my heart, the fact of YOU, just
+being what you are, and being here, meant so much to me, that I did not
+dare let it mean more. Somehow I never connected you with widowhood; and
+not until you said this evening on the shore: 'I am a soldier's widow,'
+did I know that you were free.--There! Now you have heard all there is to
+hear. I made a bad mistake at the beginning; but I hope I am not the sort
+of chap you need mind sitting on a ledge with, and calling 'Jim'."
+
+For answer, Myra's cheek came trustfully to rest against the sleeve of
+the rough tweed coat. "Jim," she said; "Oh, Jim!"
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+Presently: "So you know the Inglebys?" remarked Jim Airth.
+
+"Yes," said Myra.
+
+"Is 'The Lodge' near Shenstone Park?"
+
+"The Lodge is _in_ the park. It is not at any of the gates.--I am not a
+gate-keeper, Jim!--It is a pretty little house, standing by itself, just
+inside the north entrance."
+
+"Do you rent it from them?"
+
+Myra hesitated, but only for the fraction of a second. "No; it is my own.
+Lord Ingleby gave it to me."
+
+"_Lord_ Ingleby?" Jim Airth's voice sounded like knitted brows. "Why not
+_Lady_ Ingleby?"
+
+"It was not hers, to give. All that is hers, was his."
+
+"I see. Which of them did you know first?"
+
+"I have known Lady Ingleby all my life," said Myra, truthfully; "and I
+have known Lord Ingleby since his marriage."
+
+"Ah. Then he became your friend, because he married her?"
+
+Myra laughed. "Yes," she said. "I suppose so."
+
+"What's the joke?"
+
+"Only that it struck me as an amusing way of putting it; but it is
+undoubtedly true."
+
+"Have they any children?"
+
+Myra's voice shook slightly. "No, none. Why do you ask?"
+
+"Well, in the campaign, I often shared Lord Ingleby's tent; and he used
+to talk in his sleep."
+
+"Yes?"
+
+"There was one name he often called and repeated."
+
+Lady Ingleby's heart stood still.
+
+"Yes?" she said, hardly breathing.
+
+"It was 'Peter'," continued Jim Airth. "The night before he was killed,
+he kept turning in his sleep and saying: 'Peter! Hullo, little Peter!
+Come here!' I thought perhaps he had a little son named Peter."
+
+"He had no son," said Lady Ingleby, controlling her voice with effort.
+"Peter was a dog of which he was very fond. Was that the only name he
+spoke?"
+
+"The only one I ever heard," replied Jim Airth.
+
+Then suddenly Lady Ingleby clasped both hands round his arm.
+
+"Jim," she whispered, brokenly, "Not once have you spoken my name. It was
+a bargain. We were to be old and intimate friends. I seem to have been
+calling you 'Jim' all my life! But you have not yet called me 'Myra,' Let
+me hear it now, please."
+
+Jim Airth laid his big hand over both of hers.
+
+"I can't," he said. "Hush! I can't. Not up here--it means too much. Wait
+until we get back to earth again. Then--Oh, I say! Can't you help?"
+
+This kind of emotion was an unknown quantity to Lady Ingleby. So was the
+wild beating of her own heart. But she knew the situation called for
+tact, and was not tactful speech always her special forte?
+
+"Jim," she said, "are you not frightfully hungry? I should be; only I had
+an enormous tea before coming out. Would you like to hear what I had for
+tea? No. I am afraid it would make you feel worse. I suppose dinner at
+the inn was over, long ago. I wonder what variation of fried fish they
+had, and whether Miss Susannah choked over a fish-bone, and had to be
+requested to leave the room. Oh, do you remember that evening? You looked
+so dismayed and alarmed, I quite thought you were going to the rescue! I
+wonder what time it is?"
+
+"We can soon tell that," said Jim Airth, cheerfully. He dived into his
+pocket, produced a matchbox which he had long been fingering turn about
+with his pipe and tobacco-pouch, struck a light, and looked at his watch.
+Myra saw the lean brown face, in the weird flare of the match. She also
+saw the horrid depth so close to them, which she had almost forgotten. A
+sense of dizziness came over her. She longed to cling to his arm; but he
+had drawn it resolutely away.
+
+"Half past ten," said Jim Airth. "Miss Murgatroyd has donned her
+night-cap. Miss Eliza has sighed: '_Good-night, summer, good-night,
+good-night_,' at her open lattice; and Susie, folding her plump hands,
+has said: '_Now I lay me_.'"
+
+Myra laughed. "And they will all be listening for you to dump out your
+big boots," she said. "That is always your 'Good-night' to the otherwise
+silent house."
+
+"No, really? Does it make a noise?" said Jim Airth, ruefully. "Never
+again----?"
+
+"Oh, but you must," said Myra. "I love--I mean _Susie_ loves the sound,
+and listens for it. Jim, that match reminds me:--why don't you smoke?
+Surely it would help the hunger, and be comfortable and cheering."
+
+Jim Airth's pipe and pouch were out in a twinkling.
+
+"Sure you don't mind? It doesn't make you sick, or give you a headache?"
+
+"No, I think I like it," said Myra. "In fact, I am sure I like it. That
+is, I like to sit beside it. No, I don't do it myself."
+
+Another match flared, and again she saw the chasm, and the nearness of
+the edge. She bore it until the pipe was drawing well. Then: "Oh, Jim,"
+she said, "I am so sorry; but I am afraid I am becoming dizzy. I feel as
+though I must fall over." She gave a half sob.
+
+Jim Airth turned, instantly alert.
+
+"Nonsense," he said, but the sharp word sounded tender. "Four good feet
+of width are as safe as forty. Change your position a bit." He put his
+arm around her, and moved her so that she leant more completely against
+the cliff at their backs. "Now forget the edge," he said, "and listen. I
+am going to tell you camp yarns, and tales of the Wild West."
+
+Then as they sat on in the darkness, Jim Airth smoked and talked,
+painting vivid word-pictures of life and adventure in other lands. And
+Myra listened, absorbed and enchanted; every moment realising more fully,
+as he unconsciously revealed it, the manly strength and honest simplicity
+of his big nature, with its fun and its fire; its huge capacity for
+enjoyment; its corresponding capacity for pain.
+
+And, as she listened, her heart said: "Oh, my cosmopolitan cowboy! Thank
+God you found no title in the book, to put you off. Thank God you found
+no name which you could 'place,' relegating its poor possessor to the
+ranks of 'society leaders' in which you would have had no share. And, oh!
+most of all, I thank God for the doctor's wise injunction: 'Leave behind
+you your own identity'!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+UNDER THE MORNING STAR
+
+
+The night wore on.
+
+Stars shone in the deep purple sky; bright watchful eyes looking down
+unwearied upon the sleeping world.
+
+The sound of the sea below fell from a roar to a murmur, and drew away
+into the distance.
+
+It was a warm June night, and very still.
+
+Jim Airth had moved along the ledge to the further end, and sat swinging
+his legs over the edge. His content was so deep and full, that ordinary
+speech seemed impossible; and silence, a glad necessity. The prospect of
+that which the future might hold in store, made the ledge too narrow to
+contain him. He sought relief in motion, and swung his long legs out into
+the darkness.
+
+It had not occurred to him to wonder at his companion's silence; the
+reason for his own had been so all-sufficient.
+
+At length he struck a match to see the time; then, turning with a smile,
+held it so that its light illumined Myra.
+
+She knelt upon the ledge, her hands pressed against the overhanging
+cliff, her head turned in terror away from it. Her face was ashen in its
+whiteness, and large tears rolled down her cheeks.
+
+Jim dropped the match, with an exclamation, and groped towards her in the
+darkness.
+
+"Dear!" he cried, "Oh, my dear, what is the matter? Selfish fool, that I
+am! I thought you were just resting, quiet and content."
+
+His groping hands found and held her.
+
+"Oh, Jim," sobbed Lady Ingleby, "I am so sorry! It is so weak and
+unworthy. But I am afraid I feel faint. The whole cliff seems to rock and
+move. Every moment I fear it will tip me over. And you seemed miles
+away!"
+
+"You _are_ faint," said Jim Airth; "and no wonder. There is nothing weak
+or unworthy about it. You have been quite splendid. It is I who have been
+a thoughtless ass. But I can't have you fainting up here. You must lie
+down at once. If I sit on the edge with my back to you, can you slip
+along behind me and lie at full length, leaning against the cliff?"
+
+"No, oh no, I couldn't!" whispered Myra. "It frightens me so horribly
+when you hang your legs over the edge, and I can't bear to touch the
+cliff. It seems worse than the black emptiness. It rocks to and fro, and
+seems to push me over. Oh, Jim! What shall I do? Help me, help me!"
+
+"You _must_ lie down," said Jim Airth, between his teeth. "Here, wait a
+minute. Move out a little way. Don't be afraid. I have hold of you. Let
+me get behind you.... That's right. Now you are not touching the cliff.
+Let me get my shoulders firmly into the hollow at this end, and my feet
+fixed at the other. There! With my back rammed into it like this, nothing
+short of an earthquake could dislodge me. Now dear--turn your back to me
+and your face to the sea and let yourself go. You will not fall over. Do
+not be afraid."
+
+Very gently, but very firmly, he drew her into his arms.
+
+Tired, frightened, faint,--Lady Ingleby was conscious at first of nothing
+save the intense relief of the sense of his great strength about her. She
+seemed to have been fighting the cliff and resisting the gaping darkness,
+until she was utterly worn out. Now she yielded to his gentle insistence,
+and sank into safety. Her cheek rested against his rough coat, and it
+seemed to her more soothing than the softest pillow. With a sigh of
+content, she folded her hands upon her breast, and he laid one of his big
+ones firmly over them both. She felt so safe, and held.
+
+Then she heard Jim Airth's voice, close to her ear.
+
+"We are not alone," he said. "You must try to sleep, dear; but first I
+want you to realise that we are not alone. Do you know what I mean? _God
+is here._ When I was a very little chap, I used to go to a Dame-school in
+the Highlands; and the old dame made me learn by heart the hundred and
+thirty-ninth psalm. I have repeated parts of it in all sorts of places of
+difficulty and danger. I am going to say my favourite verses to you now.
+Listen. 'Whither shall I go from Thy Spirit? or whither shall I flee from
+Thy presence?... If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the
+uttermost parts of the sea; even there shall Thy hand lead me, and Thy
+right hand shall hold me. If I say, Surely the darkness shall cover me;
+even the night shall be light about me. Yea, the darkness hideth not from
+Thee; but the night shineth as the day: the darkness and the light are
+both alike to Thee.... How precious also are Thy thoughts unto me, O God!
+how great is the sum of them. If I should count them they are more in
+number than the sand: when I awake I am still with Thee.'"
+
+The deep voice ceased. Lady Ingleby opened her eyes. "I was nearly
+asleep," she said. "How good you are, Jim."
+
+"No, I am not good," he answered. "I'm a tough chap, full of faults, and
+beset by failings. Only--if you will trust me, please God, I will never
+fail you. But now I want you to sleep; and I don't want you to think
+about me. I am merely a thing, which by God's providence is allowed to
+keep you in safety. Do you see that wonderful planet, hanging like a lamp
+in the sky? Watch it, while I tell you some lines written by an American
+woman, on the thought of that last verse."
+
+And with his cheek against her soft hair, and his strong arms firmly
+round her, Jim Airth repeated, slowly, Mrs. Beecher Stowe's matchless
+poem:
+
+        "Still, still with Thee, when purple morning breaketh,
+        When the bird waketh, and the shadows flee;
+        Fairer than morning, lovelier than daylight,
+        Dawns the sweet consciousness--I am with Thee.
+
+        "Alone with Thee, amid the mystic shadows,
+        The solemn hush of nature newly born;
+        Alone with Thee, in breathless adoration,
+        In the calm dew and freshness of the morn.
+
+        "As in the dawning, o'er the waveless ocean,
+        The image of the morning star doth rest;
+        So in this stillness Thou beholdest only
+        Thine image in the waters of my breast.
+
+        "When sinks the soul, subdued by toil, to slumber
+        Its closing eye looks up to Thee in prayer;
+        Sweet the repose, beneath Thy wings o'ershadowing,
+        But sweeter still to wake, and find Thee there.
+
+        "So shall it be at last, in that bright morning
+        When the soul waketh, and life's shadows flee;
+        Oh, in that hour, fairer than daylight's dawning,
+        Shall rise the glorious thought, I am with Thee!"
+
+Jim Airth's voice ceased. He waited a moment in silence.
+
+Then--"Do you like it?" he asked softly.
+
+There was no answer. Myra slept as peacefully as a little child. He could
+feel the regular motion of her quiet breathing, beneath his hand.
+
+"Thank God!" said Jim Airth, with his eyes on the morning star.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+THE AWAKENING
+
+
+When Lady Ingleby opened her eyes, she could not, for a moment, imagine
+where she was.
+
+Dawn was breaking over the sea. A rift of silver, in the purple sky, had
+taken the place of the morning star. She could see the silvery gleam
+reflected in the ocean.
+
+"Why am I sleeping so close to a large window?" queried her bewildered
+mind. "Or am I on a balcony?"
+
+"Why do I feel so extraordinarily strong and rested?" questioned her
+slowly awakening body.
+
+She lay quite still and considered the matter.
+
+Then looking down, she saw a large brown hand clasping both hers. Her
+head was resting in the curve of the arm to which the hand belonged. A
+strong right arm was flung over and around her. All questionings were
+solved by two short words: "Jim Airth."
+
+Lady Ingleby lay very still. She feared to break the deep spell of
+restfulness which held her. She hesitated to bring down to earth the
+exquisite sense of heaven, by which she was surrounded.
+
+As the dawn broke over the sea, a wonderful light dawned in her eyes, a
+radiance such as had never shone in those sweet eyes before. "Dear God,"
+she whispered, "am I to know the Best?"
+
+Then she gently withdrew one hand, and laid it on the hand which had
+covered both.
+
+"Jim," she said. "Jim! Look! It is day."
+
+"Yes?" came Jim Airth's voice from behind her. "Yes? _What?_ COME
+IN!--Hullo! Oh, I say!"
+
+Myra smiled into the dawning. She had already come through those first
+moments of astonished realisation. But Jim Airth awoke to the situation
+more quickly than she had done.
+
+"Hullo!" he said. "I meant to keep watch all the time; but I must have
+slept. Are you all right? Sure? No cramp? Well, I have a cramp in my left
+leg which will make me kick down the cliff in another minute, if I don't
+move it. Let me help you up.... That's the way. Now you sit safely there,
+while I get unwedged.... By Jove! I believe I've grown into the cliff,
+like a fossil ichthyosaurus. Did you ever see an ichthyosaurus? Doesn't
+it seem years since you said: 'And who is Davy Jones?' Don't you want
+some breakfast? I suppose it's about time we went home."
+
+Talking gaily all the time, Jim Airth drew up his long limbs, rubbing
+them vigorously; stretched his arms above his head; then passed his hand
+over his tumbled hair.
+
+"My wig!" he said. "What a morning! And how good to be alive!"
+
+Myra stole a look at him. His eyes were turned seaward. The same
+dawn-light was in them, as shone in her own.
+
+"Don't you want breakfast?" said Jim Airth, and pulled out his watch.
+
+"I do," said Myra, gaily. "And now I can venture to tell you what
+delicious home-made bread I had for tea. What time is it, Jim?"
+
+"Half past three. In a few minutes the sun will rise. Watch! Did you ever
+before see the dawn? Is it not wonderful? Always more of pearl and silver
+than at sunset. Look how the narrow rift has widened and spread right
+across the sky. The Monarch of Day is coming! See the little herald
+clouds, in livery of pink and gold. Now watch where the sea looks
+brightest. Ah!... There is the tip of his blood-red rim, rising out of
+the ocean. And how quickly the whole ball appears. Now see the rippling
+path of gold and crimson, a royal highway on the waters, right from the
+shore below us, to the footstool of his brilliant Majesty.... A new day
+has begun; and we have not said 'Good-morning.' Why should we? We did not
+say 'Good-night.' How ideal it would be, never to say 'Good-morning'; and
+never to say 'Good-night.' The night would be always 'good', and so would
+the morning. All life would be one grand crescendo of good--better--best.
+What? Have we found the Best? Ah, hush! I did not mean to say that
+yet.... Are you ready for the climb down? No, I can't allow any peeping
+over, and considering. If you really feel afraid of it, I will run to
+Tregarth as quickly as possible, rouse the sleeping village, bring ropes
+and men, and haul you up from the top."
+
+"I absolutely decline to be 'hauled up from the top,' or to be left here
+alone," declared Lady Ingleby.
+
+"Then the sooner we start down, the better," said Jim Airth. "I'm going
+first." He was over the edge before Myra could open her lips to
+expostulate. "Now turn round. Hold on to the ledge firmly with your
+hands, and give me your feet. Do you hear? Do as I tell you. Don't
+hesitate. It is less steep than it seemed yesterday. We are quite safe.
+Come on!... That's right."
+
+Then Lady Ingleby passed through a most terrifying five minutes, while
+she yielded in blind obedience to the strong hands beneath her, and the
+big voice which encouraged and threatened alternately.
+
+But when the descent was over and she stood on the shore beside Jim
+Airth; when together they turned and looked in silence up the path of
+glory on the rippling waters, to the blazing beauty of the rising sun,
+thankful tears rushed to Lady Ingleby's eyes.
+
+"Oh, Jim," she exclaimed, "God is good! It is so wonderful to be alive!"
+
+Then Jim Airth turned, his face transfigured, the sunlight in his eyes,
+and opened his arms. "Myra," he said. "We have found the Best."
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+They walked along the shore, and up the steep street of the sleeping
+village, hand in hand like happy children.
+
+Arrived at the Moorhead Inn, they pushed open the garden gate, and
+stepped noiselessly across the sunlit lawn.
+
+The front door was firmly bolted. Jim Airth slipped round to the back,
+but returned in a minute shaking his head. Then he felt in his pocket for
+the big knife which had served them so well; pushed back the catch of the
+coffee-room window; softly raised the sash; swung one leg over, and drew
+Myra in after him.
+
+Once in the familiar room, with its mustard-pots and salt-cellars, its
+table-cloths, left on in readiness for breakfast, they both lapsed into
+fits of uncontrollable laughter; laughter the more overwhelming, because
+it had to be silent.
+
+Jim, recovering first, went off to the larder to forage for food.
+
+Lady Ingleby flew noiselessly up to her room to wash her hands, and
+smooth her hair. She returned in two minutes to find Jim, very proud of
+his success, setting out a crusty home-made loaf, a large cheese, and a
+foaming tankard of ale.
+
+Lady Ingleby longed for tea, and had never in her life drunk ale out of a
+pewter pot. But not for worlds would she have spoiled Jim Airth's boyish
+delight in the success of his raid on the larder.
+
+So they sat at the centre table, Myra in Miss Murgatroyd's place, and Jim
+in Susie's, and consumed their bread-and-cheese, and drank their beer,
+with huge appetites and prodigious enjoyment. And Jim used Miss
+Susannah's napkin, and pretended to be sentimental over it. And Myra
+reproved him, after the manner of Miss Murgatroyd reproving Susie. After
+which they simultaneously exclaimed: "Oh, my dear love!" in Miss Eliza's
+most affecting manner; then linked fingers for a wish, and could neither
+of them think of one.
+
+By the time they had finished, and cleared away, it was half past five.
+They passed into the hall together.
+
+"You must get some more sleep," said Jim Airth, authoritatively.
+
+"I will, if you wish it," whispered Myra; "but I never, in my whole life,
+felt so strong or so rested. Jim, I shall sit at your table, and pour out
+your coffee at breakfast. Let's aim to have it at nine, as usual. It will
+be such fun to watch the Murgatroyds, and to remember our cheese and
+beer. If you are down first, order our breakfasts at the same table."
+
+"All right," said Jim Airth.
+
+Myra commenced mounting the stairs, but turned on the fifth step and hung
+over the banisters to smile at him.
+
+Jim Airth reached up his hand. "How can I let you go?" he exclaimed
+suddenly.
+
+Myra leaned over, and smiled into his adoring eyes.
+
+"How can I go?" she whispered, tenderly.
+
+Jim Airth took both her hands in his. His eyes blazed up into hers.
+
+"Myra," he said, "when shall we be married?"
+
+Myra's face flamed, just as the soft white clouds had flamed when the sun
+arose. But she met the fire of his eyes without flinching.
+
+"When you will, Jim," she answered gently.
+
+"As soon as possible, then," said Jim Airth, eagerly.
+
+Myra withdrew her hands, and mounted two more steps; then turned to bend
+and whisper: "Why?"
+
+"Because," replied Jim Airth, "I do not know how to bear that there
+should be a day, or an hour, or a minute, when we cannot be together."
+
+"Ah, do you feel that, too?" whispered Myra.
+
+"Too?" cried Jim Airth. "Do _you_--Myra! Come back!"
+
+But Lady Ingleby fled up the stairs like a hare. She had not run so fast
+since she was a little child of ten. He heard her happy laugh, and the
+closing of her door.
+
+Then he unbarred the front entrance; and stepping out, stood in the
+sunshine, on the path where he had seen his Fairy-land Princess arrive.
+
+He stretched his arms over his head.
+
+"Mine!" he said. "Mine, altogether! Oh, my God! At last, I have won the
+Highest!"
+
+Then he raced down the street to the beach; and five minutes later, in
+the full strength of his vigorous manhood, he was swimming up the golden
+path, towards the rising sun.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+GOLDEN DAYS
+
+
+The week which followed was one of ideal joy and holiday. Both knew,
+instinctively, that no after days could ever be quite as these first
+days. They were an experience which came not again, and must be realised
+and enjoyed with whole-hearted completeness.
+
+At first Jim Airth talked with determination of a special licence, and
+pleaded for no delay. But Lady Ingleby, usually vague to a degree on all
+questions of law or matters of business, fortunately felt doubtful as to
+whether it would be wise to be married in a name other than her own; and,
+though she might have solved the difficulty by at once revealing her
+identity to Jim Airth, she was anxious to choose her own time and place
+for this revelation, and had set her heart upon making it amid the
+surroundings of her own beautiful home at Shenstone.
+
+"You see, Jim," she urged, "I _have_ a few friends in town and at
+Shenstone, who take an interest in my doings; and I could hardly reappear
+among them married! Could I, Jim? It would seem such an unusual and
+unexpected termination to a rest-cure. Wouldn't it, Jim?"
+
+Jim Airth's big laugh brought Miss Susie to the window. It caused sad
+waste of Susannah's time, that her window looked out on the honeysuckle
+arbour.
+
+"It might make quite a run on rest-cures," said Jim Airth.
+
+"Ah, but they couldn't all meet _you_," said Myra; and the look he
+received from those sweet eyes, atoned for the vague inaccuracy of the
+rejoinder.
+
+So they agreed to have one week of this free untrammelled life, before
+returning to the world of those who knew them; and he promised to come
+and see her in her own home, before taking the final steps which should
+make her altogether his.
+
+So they went gay walks along the cliffs in the breezy sunshine; and Myra,
+clinging to Jim's arm, looked down from above upon their ledge.
+
+They revisited Horseshoe Cove at low water, and Jim Airth spent hours
+cutting the hurried niches into proper steps, so as to leave a staircase
+to the ledge, up which people, who chanced in future to be caught by the
+tide, might climb to safety. Myra sat on the beach and watched him, her
+eyes alight with tender memories; but she absolutely refused to mount
+again.
+
+"No, Jim," she said; "not until we come here on our honeymoon. Then, if
+you wish, you shall take your wife back to the place where we passed
+those wonderful hours. But not now."
+
+Jim, who expected always to have his own way, unless he was given
+excellent reasons in black and white for not having it, was about to
+expostulate and insist, when he saw tears on her lashes and a quiver of
+the sweet smiling lips, and gave in at once without further question.
+
+They hired a tent, and pitched it on the shore at Tregarth, Myra
+telegraphed for a bathing-dress, and Jim went into the sea in his
+flannels and tried to teach her to swim, holding her up beneath her chin
+and saying; "One, two! ONE, TWO!" far louder than Myra had ever had it
+said to her before. Thus, amid much splashing and laughter, Lady Ingleby
+accomplished her swim of ten yards.
+
+Miss Murgatroyd was shocked; nay, more than shocked. Miss Murgatroyd was
+scandalised! She took to her bed forthwith, expecting Miss Eliza and Miss
+Susannah to follow her example--in the spirit, if not to the letter. But,
+released from Amelia's personal supervision, romantic little Susie led
+Eliza astray; and the two took a furtive and fearful joy in seeing all
+they could of the "goings on" of the couple who had boldly converted the
+prosaic Cornish hotel into a land of excitement and romance.
+
+From the moment when on the morning after their adventure, Myra, with
+yellow roses in the belt of her white gown, had swept into the
+coffee-room at five minutes past nine, saying: "My dear Jim, have I kept
+you waiting? I hope the coffee is not cold?"--all life had seemed
+transformed to Miss Susie. Turning quickly, she had caught the look Jim
+Airth gave to the lovely woman who took her place opposite him at his
+hitherto lonely table, and, still smiling into his eyes, lifted the
+coffee-pot.
+
+Amelia's stern whisper had recalled her to her senses, and prevented any
+further glancing round; but she had heard Myra say: "I forgot your sugar,
+Jim. One lump, or two?" and Jim Airth's reply: "As usual, thanks, dear,"
+not knowing, that with a silent twinkle of fun, he laid an envelope over
+his cup, as a sign to Myra, waiting with poised sugar-tongs, that "as
+usual" meant no sugar at all!
+
+Later on, when she one day met Lady Ingleby alone in a passage, Miss
+Susannah ventured two hurried questions.
+
+"Oh, tell me, my dear! Is it _really_ true that you are going to marry
+Mr. Airth? And have you known him long?"
+
+And Myra smiling down into Susie's plump anxious face replied: "Well, as
+a matter of fact, Miss Susannah, Jim Airth is going to marry _me_. And I
+cannot explain how long I have known him. I seem to have known him all my
+life."
+
+"Ah," whispered Miss Susannah with a knowing smile of conscious
+perspicacity; "Eliza and I felt sure it was a tiff."
+
+This remark appeared absolutely incomprehensible to Lady Ingleby; and not
+until she had repeated it to Jim, and he had shouted with laughter, and
+called her a bare-faced deceiver, did she realise that the "tiff" was
+supposed to have been operative during the whole time she and Jim Airth
+had sat at separate tables, and showed no signs of acquaintance.
+
+However, she smiled kindly into the archly nodding face. Then, in the
+consciousness of her own great happiness, enveloped little Susie in her
+beautiful arms, and kissed her.
+
+Miss Susannah never forgot that embrace. It was to her a reflected
+realisation of what it must be to be loved by Jim Airth. And, thereafter,
+whenever Miss Murgatroyd saw fit to use such adjectives as "indecent,"
+"questionable," or "highly improper," Miss Susie bravely gathered up her
+wool-work, and left the room.
+
+Thus the golden days went by, and a letter came for Jim Airth from Lady
+Ingleby's secretary. Her ladyship was away at present but would be
+returning to Shenstone on the following Monday, and would be pleased to
+give him an interview on Tuesday afternoon. The two o'clock express from
+Charing Cross would be met at Shenstone station, unless he wrote
+suggesting another.
+
+"Now that is very civil," said Jim to Myra, as he passed her the letter,
+"and how well it suits our plans. We had already arranged both to go up
+to town on Monday, and you on to Shenstone. So I can come down by that
+two o'clock train on Tuesday, get my interview with Lady Ingleby over as
+quickly as may be, and dash off to my girl at the Lodge. I hope to
+goodness she won't want to give me tea!"
+
+"Which 'she'?" asked Myra, smiling. "_I_ shall certainly want to give you
+tea."
+
+"Then I shall decline Lady Ingleby's," said Jim with decision.
+
+Even during those wonderful days he went on steadily with his book, Myra
+sitting near him in the smoking-room, writing letters or reading, while
+he worked. "I do better work if you are within reach, or at all events,
+within sight," Jim had said; and it was impossible that Lady Ingleby's
+mind should not have contrasted the thrill of pleasure this gave her,
+with the old sense of being in the way if work was to be done; and of
+being shut out from the chief interests of Michael's life, by the closing
+of the laboratory door. Ah, how different from the way in which Jim
+already made her a part of himself, enfolding her into his every
+interest.
+
+She wrote fully of her happiness to Mrs. Dalmain, telling her in detail
+the unusual happenings which had brought it so rapidly to pass. Also a
+few lines to her old friend the Duchess of Meldrum, merely announcing the
+fact of her engagement and the date of her return to Shenstone, promising
+full particulars later. This letter held also a message for Ronald and
+Billy, should they chance to be at Overdene.
+
+Sunday evening, their last at Tregarth, came all too soon. They went to
+the little church together, sitting among the simple fisher folk at
+Evensong. As they looked over one hymn book, and sang "Eternal Father,
+strong to save," both thought of "Davy Jones" in the middle of the hymn,
+and had to exchange a smile; yet with an instant added reverence of
+petition and thanksgiving.
+
+               "Thus evermore, shall rise to Thee,
+               Glad hymns of praise from land and sea."
+
+Jim Airth's big bass boomed through the little church; and Myra, close to
+his shoulder, sang with a face so radiant that none could doubt the
+reality of her praise.
+
+Then back to a cold supper at the Moorhead Inn; after which they strolled
+out to the honeysuckle arbour for Jim's evening pipe, and a last quiet
+talk.
+
+It was then that Jim Airth said, suddenly: "By the way I wish you would
+tell me more about Lady Ingleby. What kind of a woman is she? Easy to
+talk to?"
+
+For a moment Myra was taken aback. "Why, Jim--I hardly know. Easy? Yes, I
+think _you_ will find her easy to talk to."
+
+"Does she speak of her husband's death, or is it a tabooed subject?"
+
+"She speaks of it," said Myra, softly, "to those who can understand."
+
+"Ah! Do you suppose she will like to hear details of those last days?"
+
+"Possibly; if you feel inclined to give them, Jim--do you know who did
+it?"
+
+A surprised silence in the arbour. Jim removed his pipe, and looked at
+her.
+
+"Do I know--who--did--what?" he asked slowly.
+
+"Do you know the name of the man who made the mistake which killed Lord
+Ingleby?"
+
+Jim returned his pipe to his mouth.
+
+"Yes, dear, I do," he said, quietly. "But how came you to know of the
+blunder? I thought the whole thing was hushed up, at home."
+
+"It was," said Myra; "but Lady Ingleby was told, and I heard it then.
+Jim, if she asked you the name, should you tell her?"
+
+"Certainly I should," replied Jim Airth. "I was strongly opposed, from
+the first, to any mystery being made about it. I hate a hushing-up
+policy. But there was the fellow's future to consider. The world never
+lets a thing of that sort drop. He would always have been pointed out as
+'The chap who killed Ingleby'--just as if he had done it on purpose; and
+every man of us knew that would be a millstone round the neck of any
+career. And then the whole business had been somewhat irregular; and 'the
+powers that be' have a way of taking all the kudos, if experiments are
+successful; and making a what-on-earth-were-you-dreaming-of row, if they
+chance to be a failure. Hence the fact that we are all such
+stick-in-the-muds, in the service. Nobody dares be original. The risks
+are too great, and too astonishingly unequal. If you succeed, you get a
+D.S.O. from a grateful government, and a laurel crown from an admiring
+nation. If you fail, an indignant populace derides your name, and a
+pained and astonished government claps you into jail. That's not the way
+to encourage progress, or make fellows prompt to take the initiative. The
+right or the wrong of an action should not be determined by its success
+or failure."
+
+Lady Ingleby's mind had paused at the beginning of Jim's tirade.
+
+"They could not have taken Michael's kudos," she said. "It must have been
+patented. He was always most careful to patent all his inventions."
+
+"Eh, what?" said Jim Airth. "Oh, I see. 'Kudos,' my dear girl, means
+'glory'; not a new kind of explosive. And why do you call Lord Ingleby
+'Michael'?"
+
+"I knew him intimately," said Lady Ingleby.
+
+"I see. Well, as I was saying, I protested about the hushing up, but was
+talked over; and the few who knew the facts pledged their word of honour
+to keep silence. Only, the name was to be given to Lady Ingleby, if she
+desired to know it; and some of us thought you might as well put it in
+_The Times_ at once, as tell a woman. Then we heard she had decided not
+to know."
+
+"What do you think of her decision?" asked Lady Ingleby.
+
+"I think it proved her to be a very just-minded woman, and a very unusual
+one, if she keeps to it. But it would be rather like a woman, to make a
+fine decision such as that during the tension of a supreme moment, and
+then indulge in private speculation afterwards."
+
+"Did you hear her reason, Jim? She said she did not wish that a man
+should walk this earth, whose hand she could not bring herself to touch
+in friendship."
+
+"Poor loyal soul!" said Jim Airth, greatly moved. "Myra, if _I_ got
+accidentally done for, as Ingleby was,--should _you_ feel so, for my
+sake?"
+
+"No!" cried Myra, passionately. "If I lost _you_, my belovèd, I should
+never want to touch any other man's hand, in friendship or otherwise, as
+long as I lived!"
+
+"Ah," mused Jim Airth. "Then you don't consider Lady Ingleby's reason for
+her decision proved a love such as ours?"
+
+Myra laid her beautiful head against his shoulder.
+
+"Jim," she said, brokenly, "I do not feel myself competent to discuss any
+other love. One thing only is clear to me;--I never realised what love
+meant, until I knew _you_."
+
+A long silence in the honeysuckle arbour.
+
+Then Jim Airth cried almost fiercely to the woman in his arms: "Can you
+really think you have been right to keep me waiting, even for a day?"
+
+And she who loved him with a love beyond expression could frame no words
+in answer to that question. Thus it came to pass that, in the days to
+come, it was there, unanswered; ready to return and beat upon her brain
+with merciless reiteration: "Was I right to keep him waiting, even for a
+day."
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+In the hall, beside the marble table, where lay the visitors' book, they
+paused to say good-night. From the first, Myra had never allowed him up
+the stairs until her door was closed. "If you don't keep the rules I
+think it right to make, Jim," she had said, with her little tender smile,
+"I shall, in self-defence, engage Miss Murgatroyd as chaperon; and what
+sort of a time would you have then?"
+
+So Jim was pledged to remain below until her door had been shut five
+minutes. After which he used to tramp up the stairs whistling:
+
+                "A long long life, to my sweet wife,
+                And mates at sea;
+                And keep our bones from Davy Jones,
+                Where'er we be.
+                And may you meet a mate as sweet----"
+
+Then his door would bang, and Myra would venture to give vent to her
+suppressed laughter, and to sing a soft little
+
+                  "Yeo ho! we go!--Yeo ho! Yeo ho!"
+
+for sheer overflowing happiness.
+
+But this was the last evening. A parting impended. Also there had been
+tense moments in the honeysuckle arbour.
+
+Jim's blue eyes were mutinous. He stood holding her hands against his
+breast, as he had done in Horseshoe Cove, when the waves swept round
+their feet, and he had cried: "You _must_ climb!"
+
+"So to-morrow night," he said, "you will be at the Lodge, Shenstone; and
+I, at my Club in town. Do you know how hard it is to be away from you,
+even for an hour? Do you realise that if you had not been so obstinate we
+never need have been parted at all? We could have gone away from here,
+husband and wife together. If you had really cared, you wouldn't have
+wanted to wait."
+
+Myra smiled up into his angry eyes.
+
+"Jim," she whispered, "it is _so_ silly to say: '_If_ you had really
+cared'; because you know, perfectly well, that I care for you, more than
+any woman in the world has ever cared for any man before! And I do assure
+you, Jim, that you couldn't have married me _validly_ from here--and
+think how awful it would be, to love as much as we love and then find out
+that we were not _validly_ married--and when you come to my home, and
+fetch me away from there, you will admit--yes really _admit_--that I was
+right. You will have to apologise humbly for having said 'Bosh!' so
+often. Jim--dearest! Look at the clock! I _must_ go. Poor Miss Murgatroyd
+will grow so tired of listening for us. She always leaves her door a
+crack open. So does Miss Susannah. They have all taken to sleeping with
+their doors ajar. I deftly led the conversation round to riddles
+yesterday, when I was alone with them for a few minutes, and asked
+sternly: 'When is a door, not a door?' They all answered: 'When it is a
+jar!' quite unabashed; and Miss Eliza asked another! I believe Susie
+stands at her crack, in the darkness, in hopes of seeing you march by....
+No, don't say naughty words. They are dears, all three of them; and we
+shall miss them horribly to-morrow. Oh, Jim--I've just had such a
+brilliant idea! I shall ask them to be my bridesmaids! Can't you see them
+following me up the aisle? It would be worse than the duchess giving Jane
+away. Ah, you don't know that story? I will tell it you, some day. Jim,
+say 'Good-night' quickly, and let me go."
+
+"Once," said Jim Airth, tightening his grasp on her wrists--"once, Myra,
+we said no 'good-night,' and no 'good-morning.'"
+
+"Jim, darling!" said Myra, gently; "on that night, before I went to
+sleep, you said to me: 'We are not alone. _God is here_.' And then you
+repeated part of the hundred and thirty-ninth psalm. And, Jim--I thought
+you the best and strongest man I had ever known; and I felt that, all my
+life, I should trust you, as I trusted my God."
+
+Jim Airth loosed the hands he had held so tightly, and kissed them very
+gently. "Good-night, my sweetheart," he said, "and God bless you!" Then
+he turned away to the marble table.
+
+Myra ran swiftly up the stairs and closed her door.
+
+Then she knelt beside her bed, and sobbed uncontrollably; partly for joy,
+and partly for sorrow. The unanswered question commenced its reiteration:
+"Ah, was I right to keep him waiting?"
+
+Presently she lifted her head, held her breath, and stared into the
+darkness. A vision seemed to pass across her room. A tall, bearded man,
+in evening clothes. In his arms a tiny dog, peeping at her through its
+curls, as if to say: "_I_ have the better place. Where do _you_ come in?"
+The tall man turned at the door. "Good-night, my dear Myra," he said,
+kindly.
+
+The vision passed.
+
+Lady Ingleby buried her face in the bedclothes. "That--for ten long
+years!" she said. Then, in the darkness, she saw the mutinous fire of Jim
+Airth's blue eyes, and felt the grip of his strong hands on hers. "How
+can I say 'Good-night'?" protested his deep voice, passionately. And,
+with a rush of happy tears, Myra clasped her hands, whispering: "Dear
+God, am I at last to know the Best?"
+
+And up the stairs came Jim Airth, whistling like a nightingale. But, as a
+concession to Miss Murgatroyd's ideas concerning suitable Sabbath music,
+he discarded "Nancy Lee," and whistled:
+
+               "Eternal Father, strong to save,
+               Whose arm hath bound the restless wave;
+               Who bidst the mighty ocean deep,
+               Its own appointed limits keep,
+               O hear us, when we cry to Thee----"
+
+And, kneeling beside her bed, in the darkness, Myra made of it her
+evening prayer.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+"WHERE IS LADY INGLEBY?"
+
+
+When Jim Airth left the train on the following Tuesday afternoon, he
+looked eagerly up and down the platform, hoping to see Myra. True, they
+had particularly arranged not to meet, until after his interview with
+Lady Ingleby. But Myra was so charmingly inconsequent and impulsive in
+her actions. It would be quite like her to reverse the whole plan they
+had made; and, if her desire to see him, in any measure resembled his
+huge hunger for a sight of her, he could easily understand such a
+reversal.
+
+However, Myra was not there; and with a heavy sense of unreasonable
+disappointment, Jim Airth chucked his ticket to a waiting porter, passed
+through the little station, and found a smart turn-out, with tandem
+ponies, waiting outside.
+
+The groom at the leader's head touched his hat.
+
+"For Shenstone Park, sir?"
+
+"Yes," said Jim Airth, and climbed in.
+
+The groom touched his hat again. "Her ladyship said, sir, that perhaps
+you might like to drive the ponies yourself, sir."
+
+"No, thank you," said Jim Airth, shortly. "I never drive other people's
+ponies."
+
+The groom's comprehending grin was immediately suppressed. He touched his
+hat again; gathered up the reins, mounted the driver's seat, flicked the
+leader, and the perfectly matched ponies swung at once into a fast trot.
+
+Jim Airth, a connoisseur in horse-flesh, eyed them with approval. They
+flew along the narrow Surrey lanes, between masses of wild roses and
+clematis. The villagers were working in the hayfields, shouting gaily to
+one another as they tossed the hay. It was a matchless June day, in a
+perfect English summer.
+
+Jim Airth's disappointment at Myra's non-appearance, was lifting rapidly
+in the enjoyment of the drive. After all it was best to adhere to plans
+once made; and every step of these jolly little tapping hoofs was
+bringing him nearer to the Lodge. Perhaps she would be at the window. (He
+had particularly told her _not_ to be!)
+
+"These ponies have been well handled," he remarked approvingly to the
+groom, as they flew round a bend.
+
+"Yes, sir," said the groom, with the inevitable movement towards his hat,
+whip and hand going up together. "Her ladyship always drives them
+herself, sir. Fine whip, her ladyship, sir."
+
+This item of information surprised Jim Airth. Judging by Lord Ingleby's
+age and appearance, he had expected to find Lady Ingleby a sedate and
+stately matron of sixty. It was somewhat surprising to hear of her as a
+fine whip.
+
+However, he had no time to weigh the matter further. Passing an ivy-clad
+church on the village green, they swung through massive iron gates, of
+very fine design, and entered the stately avenue of Shenstone Park. To
+the left, in a group of trees, stood a pretty little gabled house.
+
+"What house is that?" asked Jim Airth, quickly.
+
+"The Lodge, sir."
+
+"Who lives there?"
+
+"Mrs. O'Mara, sir."
+
+"Has Mrs. O'Mara returned?"
+
+"I don't know, sir. She was up at the house with her ladyship this
+morning."
+
+"Then she _has_ returned," said Jim Airth.
+
+The groom looked perplexed, but made no comment.
+
+Jim Airth turned in his seat, and looked back at the Lodge. It was a far
+smaller house than he had expected. This fact did not seem to depress
+him. He smiled to himself, as at some thought which gave him amusement
+and pleasure. While he still looked back, a side door opened; a neatly
+dressed woman in black, apparently a superior lady's-maid, appeared on
+the doorstep, shook out a white table-cloth, and re-entered the house.
+
+They flew on up the avenue, Jim Airth noting every tree with appreciation
+and pleasure. The fine old house came into view, and a moment later they
+drew up at the entrance.
+
+"Good driving," remarked Jim Airth approvingly, as he tipped the little
+groom. Then he turned, to find the great doors already standing wide, and
+a stately butler, with immense black eyebrows, waiting to receive him.
+
+"Will you come to her ladyship's sitting-room, sir?" said the butler, and
+led the way.
+
+Jim Airth entered a charmingly appointed room, and looked around.
+
+It was empty.
+
+"Kindly wait here, sir, while I acquaint her ladyship with your arrival,"
+said the pompous person with the eyebrows, and went out noiselessly,
+closing the door behind him.
+
+Left alone, Jim Airth commenced taking rapid note of the room, hoping to
+gain therefrom some ideas as to the tastes and character of its
+possessor. But almost immediately his attention was arrested by a
+life-size portrait of Lord Ingleby, hanging above the mantelpiece.
+
+Jim Airth walked over to the hearthrug, and stood long, looking with
+silent intentness at the picture.
+
+"Excellent," he said to himself, at last. "Extraordinarily clever. That
+chap shall paint Myra, if I can lay hands on him. What a jolly little
+dog! And what devotion! Mutual and absorbing. I suppose that is Peter.
+Queer to think that I should have been the last to hear him calling
+Peter. I wonder whether Lady Ingleby liked Peter. If not, I doubt if she
+would have had much of a look-in. If anyone went to the wall it certainly
+wasn't Peter."
+
+He was still absorbed in the picture, when the butler returned with a
+long message, solemnly delivered.
+
+"Her ladyship is out in the grounds, sir. As it is so warm in the house,
+sir, her ladyship requests that you come to her in the grounds. If you
+will allow me, sir, I will show you the way."
+
+Jim Airth restrained an inclination to say: "Buck up!" and followed the
+butler along a corridor, down a wide staircase to a lower hall. They
+stepped out on to a terrace running the full length of the house. Below
+it, an old-fashioned garden, with box borders, bright flower beds, a
+fountain in the centre. Beyond this a smooth lawn, sloping down to a
+beautiful lake, which sparkled and gleamed in the afternoon sunshine. On
+this lawn, well to the right, half-way between the house and the water,
+stood a group of beeches. Beneath their spreading boughs, in the cool
+inviting shadow, were some garden chairs. Jim Airth could just discern,
+in one of these, the white gown of a woman, holding a scarlet parasol.
+
+The butler indicated this clump of trees.
+
+"Her ladyship said, sir, that she would await you under the beeches."
+
+He returned to the house, and Jim Airth was left to make his way alone to
+Lady Ingleby, guided by the gleam among the trees of her brilliant
+parasol. Even at that moment it gave him pleasure to find Lady Ingleby's
+taste in sunshades, resembling Myra's.
+
+He stood for a minute on the terrace, taking in the matchless beauty of
+the place. Then his face grew sad and stern. "What a home to leave," he
+said; "and to leave it, never to return!"
+
+He still wore a look of sadness as he descended the steps leading to the
+flower garden, made his way along the narrow gravel paths; then stepped
+on to the soft turf of the lawn, and walked towards the clump of
+beeches.
+
+Jim Airth--tall and soldierly, broad-shouldered and erect--might have
+made an excellent impression upon Lady Ingleby, had she watched his
+coming. But she kept her parasol between herself and her approaching
+guest.
+
+In fact he drew quite near; near enough to distinguish the ripples of
+soft lace about, her feet, the long graceful sweep of her gown; and still
+she seemed unconscious of his close proximity.
+
+He passed beneath the beeches and stood before her. And, even then, the
+parasol concealed her face.
+
+But Jim Airth was never at a loss, when sure of his ground. "Lady
+Ingleby," he said, with grave formality; "I was told to----"
+
+Then the parasol was flung aside, and he found himself looking down into
+the lovely laughing eyes of Myra.
+
+To see Jim Airth's face change from its look of formal gravity to one of
+rapturous delight, was to Myra well worth the long effort of sitting
+immovable. He flung himself down before her with boyish abandon, and
+clasped both herself and her chair in his long arms.
+
+"Oh, you darling!" he said, bending his face over hers, while his blue
+eyes danced with delight. "Oh, Myra, what centuries since yesterday! How
+I have longed for you. I almost hoped you would after all have come to
+the station. How I have grudged wasting all this time in coming to call
+on old Lady Ingleby. Myra, has it seemed long to you? Do you realise, my
+dear girl, that it _can't_ go on any longer; that we cannot possibly live
+through another twenty-four hours of separation? But oh, you Tease! There
+was I, ramping with impatience at every wasted moment; and here were you,
+sitting under this tree, hiding your face and pretending to be Lady
+Ingleby! The astonished and astonishing old party in the eyebrows,
+certainly pointed you out as Lady Ingleby when he started me off on my
+pilgrimage. I say, how lovely you look! What billowy softness! It
+wouldn't do for cliff-climbing; but its A.I. for sitting on lawns.... I
+can't help it! I must!"
+
+"Jim," said Myra, laughing and pushing him away; "what has come to you,
+you dearest old boy? You will really have to behave! We are not in the
+honeysuckle arbour. 'The astonishing old party in the eyebrows' is most
+likely observing us from a window, and will have good cause to look
+astonished, if he sees you 'carrying on' in such a manner. Jim, how nice
+you look in your town clothes. I always like a grey frock-coat. Stand up,
+and let me see.... Oh, look at the green of the turf on those immaculate
+knees! What a pity. Did you don all this finery for me?"
+
+"Of course not, silly!" said Jim Airth, rubbing his knees vigorously.
+"When I haul you up cliffs, I wear old Norfolk coats; and when I duck you
+in the sea, I wear flannels. I considered this the correct attire in
+which to pay a formal call on Lady Ingleby; and now, before she has had a
+chance of being duly impressed by it, I have spoilt my knees hopelessly,
+worshipping at your shrine! Where is Lady Ingleby? Why doesn't she keep
+her appointments?"
+
+"Jim," said Myra, looking up at him with eyes full of unspeakable love,
+yet dancing with excitement and delight; "Jim, do you admire this
+place?"
+
+"This place?" cried Jim, stepping back a pace, so as to command a good
+view of the lake and woods beyond. "It is absolutely perfect. We have
+nothing like this in Scotland. You can't beat for all round beauty a real
+old mellow lived-in English country seat; especially when you get a
+twenty acre lake, with islands and swans, all complete. And I suppose the
+woods beyond, as far as one can see, belong to the Inglebys--or rather,
+to Lady Ingleby. What a pity there is no son."
+
+"Jim," said Myra, "I have so looked forward to showing you my home."
+
+He stepped close to her at once. "Then show it to me, dear," he said. "I
+would rather be alone with you in your own little home--I saw it, as we
+drove up--than waiting about, in this vast expanse of beauty, for Lady
+Ingleby."
+
+"Jim," said Myra, "do you remember a little tune I often hummed down in
+Cornwall; and, when you asked me what it was, I said you should hear the
+words some day?"
+
+Jim looked puzzled. "Really dear--you hummed so many little tunes----"
+
+"Oh, I know," said Myra; "and I have not much ear. But this was very
+special. I want to sing it to you now. Listen!"
+
+And looking up at him, her soft eyes full of love, Myra sang, with slight
+alterations of her own, the last verse of the old Scotch ballad,
+"Huntingtower."
+
+               "Blair in Athol's mine, Jamie,
+               Fair Dunkeld is mine, laddie;
+               Saint Johnstown's bower,
+               And Huntingtower,
+               And all that's mine, is thine, laddie."
+
+"Very pretty," said Jim, "but you've mixed it, my dear. Jamie bestowed
+all his possessions on the lassie. You sang it the wrong way round."
+
+"No, no," cried Myra, eagerly. "There _is_ no wrong way round. Providing
+they both love, it does not really matter which gives. The one who
+happens to possess, bestows. If you were a cowboy, Jim, and you loved a
+woman with lands and houses, in taking her, you would take all that was
+hers."
+
+"I guess I'd take her out to my ranch and teach her to milk cows,"
+laughed Jim Airth. Then turning about under the tree and looking in all
+directions: "But seriously, Myra, where is Lady Ingleby? She should keep
+her appointments. We cannot waste our whole afternoon waiting here. I
+want my girl; and I want her in her own little home, alone. Cannot we
+find Lady Ingleby?"
+
+Then Myra rose, radiant, and came and stood before him. The sunbeams
+shone through the beech leaves and danced in her grey eyes. She had never
+looked more perfect in her sweet loveliness. The man took it all in, and
+the glory of possession lighted his handsome face.
+
+She came and stood before him, laying her hands upon his breast. He
+wrapped his arms lightly about her. He saw she had something to say; and
+he waited.
+
+"Jim," said Myra, "Jim, dearest. There is just one name I want to bear,
+more than any other. There is just one thing I long to be. Then I
+shall be content. I want to have the right to be called 'Mrs. Jim
+Airth.' I want more than all else beside, to be your wife. But--until
+I am that; and may it be very soon! until you make me 'Mrs. Jim
+Airth'--dearest--_I_--am Lady Ingleby."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+UNDER THE BEECHES AT SHENSTONE
+
+
+Jim Airth's arms fell slowly to his sides. He still looked into those
+happy, loving eyes, but the joy in his own died out, leaving them merely
+cold blue steel. His face slowly whitened, hardened, froze into lines of
+silent misery. Then he moved back a step, and Myra's hands fell from
+him.
+
+"_You_--'Lady Ingleby'?" he said.
+
+Myra gazed at him, in unspeakable dismay.
+
+"Jim!" she cried, "Jim, dearest! Why should you mind it so much?"
+
+She moved forward, and tried to take his hand.
+
+"Don't touch me!" he said, sharply. Then: "_You_, Myra? You! Lord
+Ingleby's widow?"
+
+The furious misery of his voice stung Myra. Why should he resent the
+noble name she bore, the high rank which was hers? Even if it placed her
+socially far above him, had she not just expressed her readiness--her
+longing--to resign all, for him? Had not her love already placed him on
+the topmost pinnacle of her regard? Was it generous, was it worthy of Jim
+Airth to take her disclosure thus?
+
+She moved towards the chairs, with gentle dignity.
+
+"Let us sit down, Jim, and talk it over," she said, quietly. "I do not
+think you need find it so overwhelming a matter as you seem to imagine.
+Let me tell you all about it; or rather, suppose you ask me any questions
+you like."
+
+Jim Airth sat blindly down upon the chair farthest from her, put his
+elbows on his knees, and sank his face into his hands.
+
+Without any comment, Myra rose; moved her chair close enough to enable
+her to lay her hand upon his arm, should she wish to do so; sat down
+again, and waited in silence.
+
+Jim Airth had but one question to ask. He asked it, without lifting his
+head.
+
+"Who is Mrs. O'Mara?"
+
+"She is the widow of Sergeant O'Mara who fell at Targai. We both lost our
+husbands in that disaster, Jim. She had been for many years my
+maid-attendant. When she married the sergeant, a fine soldier whom
+Michael held in high esteem, I wished still to keep her near me. Michael
+had given me the Lodge to do with as I pleased. I put them into it. She
+lives there still. Oh, Jim dearest, try to realise that I have not said
+one word to you which was not completely truthful! Let me explain how I
+came to be in Cornwall under her name instead of my own. If I might put
+my hand in yours, Jim, I could tell you more easily.... No? Very well;
+never mind.
+
+"After I received the telegram last November telling me of my husband's
+death, I had a very bad nervous breakdown. I do not think it was caused
+so much by my loss, as by a prolonged mental strain, which had preceded
+it. Just as I had moved to town and was getting better, full details
+arrived, and I had to be told that it had been an accident. You know all
+about the question as to whether I should hear the name or not. You also
+know my decision. The worry of this threw me back. What you said in the
+arbour was perfectly true. I _am_ a woman, Jim; often, a weak one; and I
+was very much alone. I decided rightly, in a supreme moment--possibly you
+may know who it was who graciously undertook to bring me the news from
+the War Office--but, afterwards, I began to wonder; I allowed myself to
+guess. Men from the front came home. My surmisings circled ceaselessly
+around two--dear fellows, of whom I was really fond. At last I felt
+convinced I knew, by intangible yet unmistakable signs, which was he who
+had done it. I grew quite sure. And then--I hardly know how to tell you,
+Jim--of all impossible horrors! The man who had killed Michael wanted to
+marry _me_!--Oh, don't groan, darling; you make me so unhappy! But I do
+not wonder you find it difficult to believe. He cared very much, poor
+boy; and I suppose he thought that, as I should remain in ignorance, the
+_fact_ need not matter. It seems hard to understand; but a man in love
+sometimes loses all sense of proportion--at least so I once heard someone
+say; or words to that effect. I did not allow it ever to reach the point
+of an actual proposal; but I felt I must flee away. There were
+others--and it was terrible to me. I loved none of them; and I had made
+up my mind never to marry again unless I found my ideal. Oh, Jim!"
+
+She laid her hand upon his knee. It might have been a falling leaf, for
+all the sign he gave. She left it there, and went on speaking.
+
+"People gossiped. Society papers contained constant trying paragraphs.
+Even my widow's weeds were sketched and copied. My nerves grew worse.
+Life seemed unendurable.
+
+"At last I consulted a great specialist, who is also a trusted friend. He
+ordered me a rest-cure. Not to be shut up within four walls with my own
+worries, but to go right away alone; to leave my own identity, and all
+appertaining thereto, completely behind; to go to a place to which I had
+never before been, where I knew no one, and should not be known; to live
+in the open air; fare simply; rise early, retire early; but, above all,
+as he quaintly said: 'Leave Lady Ingleby behind.'
+
+"I followed his advice to the letter. He is not a man one can disobey. I
+did not like the idea of taking a fictitious name, so I decided to be
+'Mrs. O'Mara,' and naturally entered her address in the visitors' book,
+as well as her name.
+
+"Oh, that evening of arrival! You were quite right, Jim. I felt just a
+happy child, entering a new world of beauty and delight--all holiday and
+rest.
+
+"And then--I saw you! And, oh my belovèd, I think almost from the first
+moment my soul flew to you, as to its unquestioned mate! Your vitality
+became my source of vigour; your strength filled and upheld everything in
+me which had been weak and faltering. I owed you much, before we had
+really spoken. Afterwards, I owed you life itself, and love, and
+all--ALL, Jim!"
+
+Myra paused, silently controlling her emotion; then, bending forward,
+laid her lips upon the roughness of his hair. It might have been the
+stirring of the breeze, for all the sign he made.
+
+"When I found at first that you had come from the war, when I realised
+that you must have known Michael, I praised the doctor's wisdom in making
+me drop my own name. Also the Murgatroyds would have known it
+immediately, and I should have had no peace, As it was, Miss Murgatroyd
+occasionally held forth in the sitting-room concerning 'poor dear Lady
+Ingleby,' whom she gave us to understand she knew intimately. And
+then--oh, Jim! when I came to know my cosmopolitan cowboy; when he told
+me he hated titles and all that appertained to them; then indeed I
+blessed the moment when I had writ myself down plain 'Mrs. O'Mara'; and I
+resolved not to tell him of my title until he loved me enough not to mind
+it, or wanted me enough, to change me at once from Lady Ingleby of
+Shenstone Park, into plain Mrs. Jim Airth of--anywhere he chooses to take
+me!
+
+"Now you will understand why I felt I could not marry you validly in
+Cornwall; and I wanted--was it selfish?--I wanted the joy of revealing my
+own identity when I had you, at last, in my own beautiful home. Oh, my
+dear--my dear! Cannot our love stand the test of so light a thing as
+this?"
+
+She ceased speaking and waited.
+
+She was sure of her victory; but it seemed strange, in dealing with so
+fine a nature as that of the man she loved, that she should have had to
+fight so hard over what appeared to her a paltry matter. But she knew
+false pride often rose gigantic about the smallest things; the very
+unworthiness of the cause seeming to add to the unreasonable growth of
+its dimensions.
+
+She was deeply hurt; but she was a woman, and she loved him. She waited
+patiently to see his love for her arise victorious over unworthy pride.
+
+At last Jim Airth stood up.
+
+"I cannot face it yet," he said, slowly. "I must be alone. I ought to
+have known from the very first that you were--are--Lady Ingleby. I am
+very sorry that you should have to suffer for that which is no fault of
+your own. I must--go--now. In twenty-four hours, I will come back to talk
+it over."
+
+He turned, without another word; without a touch; without a look. He
+swung round on his heel, and walked away across the lawn.
+
+Myra's dismayed eyes could scarcely follow him.
+
+He mounted the terrace; passed into the house. A door closed.
+
+Jim Airth was gone!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+"SURELY YOU KNEW?"
+
+
+Myra Ingleby rose and wended her way slowly towards the house.
+
+A stranger meeting her would probably have noticed nothing amiss with the
+tall graceful woman, whose pallor might well have been due to the unusual
+warmth of the day.
+
+But the heart within her was dying.
+
+Her joy had received a mortal wound. The man she adored, with a love
+which had placed him at the highest, was slowly slipping from his
+pedestal, and her hands were powerless to keep him there.
+
+A woman may drag her own pride in the dust, and survive the process; but
+when the man she loves falls, then indeed her heart dies within her.
+
+She had loved to call Jim Airth a cowboy. She knew him to be avowedly
+cosmopolitan. But was he also a slave to vulgar pride? Being plain Jim
+Airth himself, did he grudge noble birth and ancient lineage to those to
+whom they rightfully belonged? Professing to scorn titles, did he really
+set upon them so exaggerated a value, that he would turn from the woman
+he was about to wed, merely because she owned a title, while he had
+none?
+
+Myra, entering the house, passed to her sitting-room. Green awnings
+shaded the windows. The fireplace was banked with ferns and lilies. Bowls
+of roses stood about; while here and there pots of growing freesias
+poured their delicate fragrance around.
+
+Myra crossed to the hearthrug and stood gazing up at the picture of Lord
+Ingleby. The gentle refinement of the scholarly face seemed accentuated
+by the dim light. Lady Ingleby dwelt in memory upon the consistent
+courtesy of the dead man's manner; his unfailing friendliness and
+equability to all; courteous to men of higher rank, considerate to those
+of lower; genial to rich and poor alike.
+
+"Oh, Michael," she whispered, "have I been unfaithful? Have I forgotten
+how good you were?"
+
+But still her heart died within her. The man who had stalked across the
+lawn, leaving her without a touch or look, held it in the hollow of his
+hand.
+
+A dog-cart clattered up to the portico. Men's voices sounded in the hall.
+Tramping feet hurried along the corridor. Then Billy's excited young
+voice cried, "May we come in?" followed by Ronnie's deeper tones, "If we
+shall not be in the way?" The next moment she was grasping a hand of
+each.
+
+"You dear boys!" she said. "I have never been more glad to see you! Do
+sit down; or have you come to play tennis?"
+
+"We have come to see _you_, dear Queen," said Billy. "We are staying at
+Overdene. The duchess had your letter. She told us the great news; also,
+that you were returning yesterday. So we came over to--to----"
+
+"To congratulate," said Ronald Ingram; and he said it heartily and
+bravely.
+
+"Thank you," said Myra, smiling at them, but her sweet voice was
+tremulous. These first congratulations, coming just now, were almost more
+than she could bear. Then, with characteristic simplicity and
+straightforwardness, she told these old friends the truth.
+
+"You dear boys! It is quite sweet of you to come over; and an hour ago,
+you would have found me radiant. There cannot have been a happier woman
+in the whole world than I. But, you know, I met him, and we became
+engaged, while I was doing my very original rest-cure, which consisted
+chiefly in being Mrs. O'Mara, to all intents and purposes, instead of
+myself. This afternoon he knows for the first time that I am Lady Ingleby
+of Shenstone. And, boys, the shock has been too much for him. He is such
+a splendid man; but a dear delightful cowboy sort of person. He has lived
+a great deal abroad, and been everything you can imagine that bestrides a
+horse and does brave things. He finished up at your horrid little war,
+and got fever at Targai. You must have known him. He calls it 'a muddle
+on the frontier,' and now he is writing a book about it, and about other
+muddles, and how to avoid them. But he has a quite eccentric dislike to
+titles and big properties; so he has shied really badly at mine. He has
+gone off to 'face it out' alone. Hence you find me sad instead of gay."
+
+Billy looked at Ronnie, telegraphing: "Is it? It must be! Shall we tell
+her?"
+
+Ronnie telegraphed back: "It is! It can be no other. _You_ tell her."
+
+Lady Ingleby became aware of these crosscurrents.
+
+"What is it, boys?" she said,
+
+"Dear Queen," cried Billy, with hardly suppressed excitement; "may we ask
+the cowboy person's name?"
+
+"Jim Airth," replied Lady Ingleby, a sudden rush of colour flooding her
+pale cheeks.
+
+"In that case," said Billy, "he is the chap we met tearing along to the
+railway station, as if all the furies were loose at his heels. He looked
+neither to the right nor to the left, nor, for that matter, in front of
+him; and our dog-cart had to take to the path! So he did not see two old
+comrades, nor did he hear their hail. But he cannot possibly have been
+fleeing from your title, dear lady, and hardly from your property; seeing
+that his own title is about the oldest known in Scottish history; while
+mile after mile of moor and stream and forest belong to him. Surely you
+knew that the fellow who called himself 'Jim Airth' when out ranching in
+the West, and still keeps it as his _nom-de-plume_, is--when at
+home--James, Earl of Airth and Monteith, and a few other names I have
+forgotten;--the finest old title in Scotland!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+WHAT BILLY HAD TO TELL
+
+
+"Did you bring your rackets, boys?" Lady Ingleby had said, with fine
+self-control; adding, when they admitted rackets left in the hall, "Ah, I
+am glad you never can resist the chestnut court. It seems ages since I
+saw you two fight out a single. Do go on and begin. I will order tea out
+there in half an hour, and follow you."
+
+Then she escaped to the terrace, flew across garden and lawn, and sought
+the shelter of the beeches. Arrived there, she sank into the chair in
+which Jim Airth had sat so immovable, and covered her face with her
+trembling fingers.
+
+"Oh, Jim, Jim!" she sobbed. "My darling, how grievously I wronged you! My
+king among men! How I misjudged you! Imputing to you thoughts of which
+you, in your noble large-heartedness, would scarcely know the meaning.
+Oh, my dear, forgive me! And oh, come to me through this darkness and
+explain what I have done wrong; explain what it is you have to face; tell
+me what has come between us. For indeed, if you leave me, I shall die."
+
+Myra now felt certain that the fault was hers; and she suffered less than
+when she had thought it his. Yet she was sorely perplexed. For, if the
+Earl of Airth and Monteith might write himself down "Jim Airth" in the
+Moorhead Inn visitors' book, and be blameless, why might not Lady Ingleby
+of Shenstone take an equally simple name, without committing an
+unpardonable offence?
+
+Myra pondered, wept, and reasoned round in a circle, growing more and
+more bewildered and perplexed.
+
+But by-and-by she went indoors and tried to remove all traces of recent
+tears. She must not let her sorrow make her selfish. Ronald and Billy
+would be wanting tea, and expecting her to join them.
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+Meanwhile the two friends, their rackets under their arms, had strolled
+through the shrubbery at the front of the house, to the beautiful tennis
+lawns, long renowned as being the most perfect in the neighbourhood. Many
+a tournament had there been fought out, in presence of a gay crowd,
+lining the courts, beneath the shady chestnut trees.
+
+But on this day the place seemed sad and deserted. They played one set,
+in silence, hardly troubling to score; then walked to the net and stood
+close together, one on either side.
+
+"We must tell her," said Ronald, examining his racket, minutely.
+
+"I suppose we must," agreed Billy, reluctantly. "We could not let her
+marry him."
+
+"Duffer! you don't suppose he would dream of marrying her? He will come
+back, and tell her himself to-morrow. We must tell her, to spare her that
+interview. She need never see him again."
+
+"I say, Ron! Did you see her go quite pink when she told us his name? And
+in spite of the trouble to-day, she looks half a dozen years younger than
+when she went away. You know she does, old man!"
+
+"Oh, that's the rest-cure," explained Ronnie, but without much
+conviction. "Rest-cures always have that effect. That's why women go in
+for them. Did you ever hear of a man doing a rest-cure?"
+
+"Well, I've heard of _you_, at Overdene," said Billy, maliciously.
+
+"Rot! You don't call staying with the duchess a rest-cure? Good heavens,
+man! You get about the liveliest time of your life when her Grace of
+Meldrum undertakes to nurse you. Did you hear about old Pilberry the
+parson, and the toucan?"
+
+"Yes, shut up. You've told me that unholy story twice already. I say,
+Ronnie! We are begging the question. Who's to tell her?"
+
+"You," said Ronald decidedly. "She cares for you like a mother, and will
+take it more easily from you. Then I can step in, later on,
+with--er--_manly_ comfort."
+
+"Confound you!" said Billy, highly indignant. "I'm not such a kid as you
+make out. But I'll tell you this:--If I thought it would be for her real
+happiness, and could be pulled through, I would tell her I did it; then
+find Airth to-morrow and tell him I had told her so."
+
+"Ass!" said Ronnie, affectionately. "As if that could mend matters. Don't
+you know the earl? He was against the hushing-up business from the first.
+He would simply punch your head for daring to lie to her, and go and tell
+her the exact truth himself. Besides, at this moment, he is thinking more
+of his side of the question, than of hers. We fellows have a way of doing
+that. If he had thought first of her, he would have stayed with her and
+seen her through, instead of rushing off like this, leaving her
+heart-broken and perplexed."
+
+"Confound him!" said Billy, earnestly.
+
+"I say, Billy! You know women." It was the first time Ronnie had admitted
+this. "Don't you think--if a woman turned in horror from a man she had
+loved, she might--if he were tactfully on the spot--turn _to_ a man who
+had long loved her, and of whom she had undoubtedly been fond?"
+
+"My knowledge of women," declaimed Billy, dramatically, "leads me to hope
+that she would fall into the arms of the man who loved her well enough to
+risk incurring her displeasure by bravely telling her himself that which
+she ought----"
+
+"Confound you!" whispered Ronnie, who had glanced past Billy, "Shut
+up!--The meshes of this net are better than the other, and the new patent
+sockets undoubtedly keep it----"
+
+"You patient people!" said Lady Ingleby's voice, just behind Billy.
+"Don't you badly need tea?"
+
+"We were admiring the new net," said Ronald Ingram, frowning at Billy,
+who with his back to Lady Ingleby, continued admiring the new net,
+helplessly speechless!
+
+There were brave attempts at merriment during tea. Ronald told all the
+latest Overdene stories; then described the annual concert which had just
+taken place.
+
+"Mrs. Dalmain was there, and sang divinely. She sings her husband's
+songs; he accompanies her. It is awfully fine to see the light on his
+blind face as he listens, while her glorious voice comes pouring forth.
+When the song is over, he gets up from the piano, gives her his arm, and
+apparently leads her off. Very few people realise that, as a matter of
+fact, she is guiding him. She gave, as an encore, a jolly little new
+thing of his--quite simple--but everybody wanted it twice over; an air
+like summer wind blowing through a pine wood, with an accompaniment like
+a blackbird whistling; words something about 'On God's fair earth, 'mid
+blossoms blue'--I forget the rest. Go ahead, Bill!"
+
+                  "There is no room for sad despair,
+                  When heaven's love is everywhere."
+
+quoted Billy, who had an excellent memory.
+
+Myra rose, hastily. "I must go in," she said. "But play as long as you
+like."
+
+Billy walked beside her towards the shrubbery. "May I come in and see
+you, presently, dear Queen? There is something I want to say."
+
+"Come when you will, Billy-boy," said Lady Ingleby, with a smile. "You
+will find me in my sitting-room."
+
+And Billy looked furtively at Ronald, hoping he had not seen. Words and
+smile undoubtedly partook of the maternal!
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was a very grave-faced young man who, half an hour later, appeared in
+Lady Ingleby's sitting-room, closing the door carefully behind him. Lady
+Ingleby knew at once that he had come on some matter which, at all events
+to himself, appeared of paramount importance. Billy's days of youthful
+escapades were over. This must be something more serious.
+
+She rose from her davenport and came to the sofa. "Sit down, Billy," she
+said, indicating an armchair opposite--Lord Ingleby's chair, and little
+Peter's. Both had now left it empty. Billy filled it readily, unconscious
+of its associations.
+
+"Rippin' flowers," remarked Billy, looking round the room.
+
+"Yes," said Lady Ingleby. She devoutly hoped Billy was not going to
+propose.
+
+"Jolly room," said Billy; "at least, I always think so."
+
+"Yes," said Lady Ingleby. "So do I."
+
+Billy's eyes, roaming anxiously around for fresh inspiration, lighted on
+the portrait over the mantelpiece. He started and paled. Then he knew his
+hour had come. There must be no more beating about the bush.
+
+Billy was a soldier, and a brave one. He had led a charge once, running
+up a hill ahead of his men, in face of a perfect hail of bullets. First
+came Billy; then the battalion. Not a man could keep within fifty yards
+of him. They always said afterwards that Billy came through that charge
+alive, because he sprinted so fast, that no bullets could touch him. He
+rushed at the subject now, with the same headlong courage.
+
+"Lady Ingleby," he said, "there is something Ronnie and I both think you
+ought to know."
+
+"Is there, Billy?" said Myra. "Then suppose you tell it me."
+
+"We have sworn not to tell," continued Billy; "but I don't care a damn--I
+mean a pin--for an oath, if _your_ happiness is at stake."
+
+"You must not break an oath, Billy, even for my sake," said Myra,
+gently.
+
+"Well, you see--_if you wished it_, you were to be the one exception."
+
+Suddenly Lady Ingleby understood. "Oh, Billy!" she said. "Does Ronald
+wish me to be told?"
+
+This gave Billy a pang. So Ronnie really counted after all, and would
+walk in--over the broken hearts of Billy and another--in rôle of manly
+comforter. It was hard; but, loyally, Billy made answer.
+
+"Yes; Ronnie says it is only right; and I think so too. I've come to do
+it, if you will let me."
+
+Lady Ingleby sat, with clasped hands, considering. After all, what did it
+matter? What did anything matter, compared to the trouble with Jim?
+
+She looked up at the portrait; but Michael's pictured face, intent on
+little Peter, gave her no sign.
+
+If these boys wished to tell her, and get it off their minds, why should
+she not know? It would put a stop, once for all, to Ronnie's tragic
+love-making.
+
+"Yes, Billy," she said. "You may as well tell me."
+
+The room was very still. A rosebud tapped twice against the window-pane.
+It might have been a warning finger. Neither noticed it. It tapped a
+third time.
+
+Billy cleared his throat, and swallowed, quickly.
+
+Then he spoke.
+
+"The man who made the blunder," he said, "and fired the mine too soon;
+the man who killed Lord Ingleby, by mistake, was the chap you call 'Jim
+Airth.'"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+JIM AIRTH DECIDES
+
+
+Lady Ingleby awaited Jim Airth's arrival, in her sitting-room.
+
+As the hour drew near, she rang the bell.
+
+"Groatley," she said, when the butler appeared, "the Earl of Airth, who
+was here yesterday, will call again, this afternoon. When his lordship
+comes, you can show him in here. I shall not be at home to any one else.
+You need not bring tea until I ring for it."
+
+Then she sat down, quietly waiting.
+
+She had resumed the mourning, temporarily laid aside. The black gown,
+hanging about her in soft trailing folds, added to the graceful height of
+her slight figure. The white tokens of widowhood at neck and wrists gave
+to her unusual beauty a pathetic suggestion of wistful loneliness. Her
+face was very pale; a purple tint beneath the tired eyes betokened tears
+and sleeplessness. But the calm steadfast look in those sweet eyes
+revealed a mind free of all doubt; a heart, completely at rest.
+
+She leaned back among the sofa cushions, her hands folded in her lap, and
+waited.
+
+Bees hummed in and out of the open windows. The scent of freesias filled
+the room, delicate, piercingly sweet, yet not oppressive. To one man
+forever afterwards the scent of freesias recalled that afternoon; the
+exquisite sweetness of that lovely face; the trailing softness of her
+widow's gown.
+
+Steps in the hall.
+
+The door opened. Groatley's voice, pompously sonorous, broke into the
+waiting silence.
+
+"The Earl of Airth, m'lady"; and Jim Airth walked in.
+
+As the door closed behind him, Myra rose.
+
+They stood, silently confronting one another beneath Lord Ingleby's
+picture.
+
+It almost seemed as though the thoughtful scholarly face must turn from
+its absorbed contemplation of the little dog, to look down for a moment
+upon them. They presented a psychological problem--these brave hearts in
+torment--which would surely have proved interesting to the calm student
+of metaphysics.
+
+Silently they faced one another for the space of a dozen heart-beats.
+
+Then Myra, with a swift movement, went up to Jim Airth, put her arms
+about his neck, and laid her head upon his breast.
+
+"I _know_, my belovèd," she said. "You need not give yourself the pain of
+trying to tell me."
+
+"How?" A single syllable seemed the most Jim's lips, for the moment,
+could manage.
+
+"Billy told me. He and Ronald Ingram came over yesterday afternoon, soon
+after you left. They had passed you, on your way to the station. They
+thought I ought to know. So Billy told me."
+
+Jim Airth's arms closed round her, holding her tightly.
+
+"My--poor--girl!" he said, brokenly.
+
+"They meant well, Jim. They are dear boys. They knew you would come back
+and tell me yourself; and they wanted to spare us both that pain. I am
+glad they did it. You were quite right when you said it had to be faced
+alone. I could not have been ready for your return, if I had not heard
+the truth, and had time to face it alone. I _am_ ready now, Jim."
+
+Jim Airth laid his cheek against her soft hair, with a groan.
+
+"I have come to say good-bye, Myra. It is all that remains to be said."
+
+"Good-bye?" Myra raised a face of terrified questioning.
+
+Jim Airth pressed it back to its hiding-place upon his breast.
+
+"I am the man, Myra, whose hand you could never bring yourself to touch
+in friendship."
+
+Myra lifted her head again. The look in her eyes was that of a woman
+prepared to fight for happiness and life.
+
+"You are the man," she said, "whose little finger is dearer to me than
+the whole body of any one else has ever been. Do you suppose I will give
+you up, Jim, because of a thing which happened accidentally in the past,
+before you and I had ever met? Ah, how little you men understand a
+woman's heart! Shall I tell you what I felt when Billy told me, after the
+first bewildering shock was over? First: sorrow for you, my dearest; a
+realisation of how appalling the mental anguish must have been, at the
+time. Secondly: thankfulness--yes, intense overwhelming thankfulness--to
+know at last what had come between us; and to know it was this
+thing--this mere ghost out of the past--nothing tangible or real; no
+wrong of mine against you, or of yours against me; nothing which need
+divide us."
+
+Jim Airth slowly unlocked his arms, took her by the wrists, holding her
+hands against his breast. Then he looked into her eyes with a silent
+sadness, more forcible than speech.
+
+"My own poor girl," he said, at length; "it is impossible for me to marry
+Lord Ingleby's widow."
+
+The strength of his will mastered hers; and, just as in Horseshoe Cove
+her fears had yielded to his dauntless courage, so now Myra felt her
+confidence ebbing away before his stern resolve. Fearful of losing it
+altogether, she drew away her hands, and turned to the sofa.
+
+"Oh, Jim," she said, "sit down and let us talk it over."
+
+She sank back among the cushions and drawing a bowl of roses hastily
+toward her, buried her face in them, fearing again to meet the settled
+sadness of his eyes.
+
+Jim Airth sat down--in the chair left vacant by Lord Ingleby and Peter.
+
+"Listen, dear," he said. "I need not ask you never to doubt my love. That
+would be absurd from me to you. I love you as I did not know it was
+possible for a man to love a woman. I love you in such a way that every
+fibre of my being will hunger for you night and day--through all the
+years to come. But--well, it would always have come hard to me to stand
+in another man's shoes, and take what had been his. I did not feel this
+when I thought I was following Sergeant O'Mara, because I knew he must
+always have been in all things so utterly apart from you. I could, under
+different circumstances, have brought myself to follow Ingleby, because I
+realise that he never awakened in you such love as is yours for me. His
+possessions would not have weighted me, because it so happens I have
+lands and houses of my own, where we could have lived. But, to stand in a
+dead man's shoes, when he is dead through an act of mine; to take to
+myself another man's widow, when she would still, but for a reckless
+movement of my own right hand, have been a wife--Myra, I could not do it!
+Even with our great love, it would not mean happiness. Think of
+it--think! As we stood together in the sight of God, while the Church, in
+solemn voice, required and charged us both, as we should answer at the
+dreadful day of judgment when the secrets of all hearts should be
+disclosed, that if either of us knew any impediment why we might not be
+lawfully joined together in matrimony, we should then confess it--I
+should cry: 'Her husband died by my hand!' and leave the church, with the
+brand of Cain, and the infamy of David, upon me."
+
+Myra lifted frightened eyes; met his, beseechingly; then bent again over
+the roses.
+
+"Or, even if I passed through that ordeal, standing mute in the solemn
+silence, what of the moment when the Church bade me take your right hand
+in my right hand--Myra, _my_ right hand?"
+
+She rose, came swiftly over, and knelt before him. She took his hand, and
+covered it with tears and kisses. She held it, sobbing, to her heart.
+
+"Dearest," she said, "I will never ask you to do, for my sake, anything
+you feel impossible or wrong. But, oh, in this, I know you are mistaken.
+I cannot argue or explain. I cannot put my reasons into words. But I
+_know_ our living, longing, love _ought_ to come before the happenings of
+a dead past. Michael lost his life through an accident. That the accident
+was caused by a mistake on your part, is fearfully hard for you. But
+there is no moral wrong in it. You might as well blame the company whose
+boat took him abroad; or the government which decided on the expedition;
+or the War Office people, who accepted him when he volunteered. I am sure
+I don't know what David did; I thought he was a quite excellent person.
+But I _do_ know about Cain; and I am perfectly certain that the brand of
+Cain could never rest on anyone, because of an unpremeditated accident.
+Oh, Jim! Cannot you look at it reasonably?"
+
+"I looked at it reasonably--after a while--until yesterday," said Jim
+Airth. "At first, of course, all was blank, ghastly despair. Oh, Myra,
+let me tell you! I have never been able to tell anyone. Go back to the
+couch; I can't let you kneel here. Sit down over there, and let me tell
+you."
+
+Lady Ingleby rose at once and returned to her seat; then sat
+listening--her yearning eyes fixed upon his bowed head. He had
+momentarily forgotten what the events of that night had cost her; so also
+had she. Her only thought was of his pain.
+
+Jim Airth began to speak, in low, hurried tones; haunted with a horror of
+reminiscence.
+
+"I can see it now. The little stuffy tent; the hidden light. I was
+already sickening for fever, working with a temperature of 102. I hadn't
+slept for two nights, and my head felt as if it were two large eyes, and
+those eyes, both bruises. I knew I ought to knock under and give the job
+to another man; but Ingleby and I had worked it all out together, and I
+was dead keen on it. It was a place where no big guns could go; but our
+little arrangement which you could carry in one hand, would do better and
+surer work, than half a dozen big guns.
+
+"There was a long wait after Ingleby and the other fellow--it was
+Ingram--started. Cathcart, left behind with me, was in and out of the
+tent; but he couldn't stay still two minutes; he was afraid of missing
+the rush. So I was alone when the signal came. We found afterwards that
+Ingram had crawled out of the tunnel, and gone to take a message to the
+nearest ambush. Ingleby was left alone. He signalled: 'Placed,' as
+agreed. I took it to be 'Fire!' and acted instantly. The moment I had
+done it, I realised my mistake. But that same instant came the roar, and
+the hot silent night was turned to pandemonium. I dashed out of the tent,
+shouting for Ingleby. Good God! It was like hell! The yelling swearing
+Tommies, making up for the long enforced silence and inaction; the hordes
+of dark devilish faces, leering in their fury, and jeering at our
+discomfiture; for inside their outer wall, was a rampart of double the
+strength, and we were no nearer taking Targai.
+
+"Afterwards--if I hadn't owned up at once to my mistake, nobody would
+have known how the thing had happened. Even then, they tried to persuade
+me the wrong signal had been given; but I knew better. And on the spot,
+it was impossible to find--well, any actual proofs of what had happened.
+The gap had been filled at once with crowds of yelling jostling Tommies,
+mad to get into the town. Jove, how those chaps fight when they get the
+chance. When all was over, several were missing who were not among the
+dead. They must have forced themselves in where they could not get back,
+and been taken prisoners. God alone knows their fate, poor beggars. Yet I
+envied them; for when the row was over, my hell began.
+
+"Myra, I would have given my whole life to have had that minute over
+again. And it was maddening to know that the business might have been
+done all right with any old fuse. Only we were so keen over our new ideas
+for signalling, and our portable electric apparatus. Oh, good Lord! I
+knew despair, those days and nights! I was down with fever, and they took
+away my sword, and guns, and razors. I couldn't imagine why. Even despair
+doesn't take me that way. But if a chap could have come into my tent and
+said: 'You didn't kill Ingleby after all. He's all right and alive!' I
+would have given my life gladly for that moment's relief. But no present
+anguish can undo a past mistake.
+
+"Well, I pulled through the fever; life had to be lived, and I suppose
+I'm not the sort of chap to take a morbid view. When I found the thing
+was to be kept quiet; when the few who knew the ins-and-outs stood by me
+like the good fellows they were, saying it might have happened to any of
+them, and as soon as I got fit again I should see the only rotten thing
+would be to let it spoil my future; I made up my mind to put it clean
+away, and live it down. You know they say, out in the great western
+country: 'God Almighty hates a quitter.' It is one of the stimulating
+tenets of their fine practical theology. I had fought through other hard
+times. I determined to fight through this. I succeeded so well, that it
+even seemed natural to go on with the work Ingleby and I had been doing
+together, and carry it through. And when notes of his were needed, I came
+to his own home without a qualm, to ask his widow--the woman I, by my
+mistake, had widowed--for permission to have and to use them.
+
+"I came--my mind full of the rich joy of life and love, with scarcely
+room for a passing pang of regret, as I entered the house without a
+master, the home without a head, knowing I was about to meet the woman I
+had widowed. Truly 'The mills of God grind slowly, but they grind
+exceeding small.' I had thrown off too easily what should have been a
+lifelong burden of regret.
+
+"In the woman I had widowed I found--the woman I was about to wed! Good
+God! Was there ever so hard a retribution?"
+
+"Jim," said Myra, gently, "is there not another side to the picture? Does
+it not strike you that it should have seemed beautiful to find that God
+in His wonderful providence had put you in a position to be able to take
+care of Michael's widow, left so helpless and alone; that in saving her
+life by the strength of your right hand, you had atoned for the death
+that hand had unwittingly dealt; that, though the past cannot be undone,
+it can sometimes be wiped out by the present? Oh, Jim! Cannot you see it
+thus, and keep and hold the right to take care of me forever? My belovèd!
+Let us never, from this moment, part. I will come away with you at once.
+We can get a special licence, and be married immediately. We will let
+Shenstone, and let the house in Park Lane, and live abroad, anywhere you
+will, Jim; only together--together! Take me away to-day. Maggie O'Mara
+can attend me, until we are married. But I can't face life without you.
+Jim--I can't! God knows, I can't!"
+
+Jim Airth looked up, a gleam of hope in his sad eyes.
+
+Then he looked away, that her appealing loveliness might not too much
+tempt him, while making his decision. He lifted his eyes; and, alas! they
+fell on the portrait over the mantelpiece.
+
+He shivered.
+
+"I can never marry Lord Ingleby's widow," he said. "Myra, how can you
+wish it? The thing would haunt us! It would be evil--unnatural. Night and
+day, it would be there. It would come between us. Some day you would
+reproach me----"
+
+"Ah, hush!" cried Myra, sharply. "Not that! I am suffering enough. At
+least spare me that!" Then, putting aside once more her own pain: "Would
+it not be happiness to you, Jim?" she asked, with wistful gentleness.
+
+"Happiness?" cried Jim Airth, violently, "It would be hell!"
+
+Lady Ingleby rose, her face as white as the large arum lily in the corner
+behind her.
+
+"Then that settles it," she said; "and, do you know, I think we had
+better not speak of it any more. I am going to ring for tea. And, if you
+will excuse me for a few moments, while they are bringing it, I will
+search among my husband's papers, and try to find those you require for
+your book."
+
+She passed swiftly out. Through the closed door, the man she left alone
+heard her giving quiet orders in the hall.
+
+He crossed the room, in two great strides, to follow her. But at the door
+he paused; turned, and came slowly back.
+
+He stood on the hearthrug, with bent head; rigid, motionless.
+
+Suddenly he lifted his eyes to Lord Ingleby's portrait.
+
+"Curse you!" he said through clenched teeth, and beat his fists upon the
+marble mantelpiece. "Curse your explosives! And curse your inventions!
+And curse you for taking her first!" Then he dropped into a chair, and
+buried his face in his hands. "Oh, God forgive me!" he whispered,
+brokenly. "But there is a limit to what a man can bear."
+
+He scarcely noticed the entrance of the footman who brought tea. But when
+a lighter step paused at the door, he lifted a haggard face, expecting to
+see Myra.
+
+A quiet woman entered, simply dressed in black merino. Her white linen
+collar and cuffs gave her the look of a hospital nurse. Her dark hair,
+neatly parted, was smoothly coiled around her head. She came in,
+deferentially; yet with a quiet dignity of manner.
+
+"I have come to pour your tea, my lord," she said. "Lady Ingleby is not
+well, and fears she must remain in her room. She asks me to give you
+these papers."
+
+Then the Earl of Airth and Monteith rose to his feet, and held out his
+hand.
+
+"I think you must be Mrs. O'Mara," he said. "I am glad to meet you, and
+it is kind of you to give me tea. I have heard of you before; and I
+believe I saw you yesterday, on the steps of your pretty house, as I
+drove up the avenue. Will you allow me to tell you how often, when we
+stood shoulder to shoulder in times of difficulty and danger, I had
+reason to respect and admire the brave comrade I knew as Sergeant
+O'Mara?"
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+Before quitting Shenstone, Jim Airth sat at Myra's davenport and wrote a
+letter, leaving it with Mrs. O'Mara to place in Lady Ingleby's hands as
+soon as he had gone.
+
+"I do not wonder you felt unable to see me again. Forgive me for all the
+grief I have caused, and am causing, you. I shall go abroad as soon as
+may be; but am obliged to remain in town until I have completed work
+which I am under contract with my publishers to finish. It will take a
+month, at most.
+
+"If you want me, Myra--I mean if you _need_ me--I could come at any
+moment. A wire to my Club would always find me.
+
+                                      "May I know how you are?
+                                                    "Wholly yours,
+                                                          "Jim Airth."
+
+To this Lady Ingleby replied on the following day.
+
+"DEAR JIM,
+
+"I shall always want you; but I could never send unless the coming would
+mean happiness for you.
+
+"I know you decided as you felt right,
+
+"I am quite well.
+
+                                        "God bless you always.
+                                                               "MYRA."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+A BETTER POINT OF VIEW
+
+
+In the days which followed, Jim Airth suffered all the pangs which come
+to a man who has made a decision prompted by pride rather than by
+conviction.
+
+It had always seemed to him essential that a man should appear in all
+things without shame or blame in the eyes of the woman he loved.
+Therefore, to be obliged suddenly to admit that a fatal blunder of his
+own had been the cause, even in the past, of irreparable loss and sorrow
+to her, had been an unacknowledged but intolerable humiliation. That she
+should have anything to overlook or to forgive in accepting himself and
+his love, was a condition of things to which he could not bring himself
+to submit; and her sweet generosity and devotion, rather increased than
+soothed his sense of wounded pride.
+
+He had been superficially honest in the reasons he had given to Myra
+regarding the impossibility of marriage between them. He had said all the
+things which he knew others might be expected to say; he had mercilessly
+expressed what would have been his own judgment had he been asked to
+pronounce an opinion concerning any other man and woman in like
+circumstances. As he voiced them they had sounded tragically plausible
+and stoically just. He knew he was inflicting almost unbearable pain upon
+himself and upon the woman whose whole love was his; but that pain seemed
+necessary to the tragic demands of the entire ghastly situation.
+
+Only after he had finally left her and was on his way back to town, did
+Jim Airth realise that the pain he had thus inflicted upon her and upon
+himself, had been a solace to his own wounded pride. His had been the
+mistake, and it re-established him in his own self-respect and sense of
+superiority, that his should be the decision, so hard to make--so
+unfalteringly made--bringing down upon his own head a punishment out of
+all proportion to the fault committed.
+
+But, now that the strain and tension were over, his natural honesty of
+mind reasserted itself, forcing him to admit that his own selfish pride
+had been at the bottom of his high-flown tragedy.
+
+Myra's simple loving view of the case had been the right one; yet,
+thrusting it from him, he had ruthlessly plunged himself and her into a
+hopeless abyss of needless suffering.
+
+By degrees he slowly realised that in so doing he had deliberately
+inflicted a more cruel wrong upon the woman he loved, than that which he
+had unwittingly done her in the past.
+
+Remorse and regret gnawed at his heart, added to an almost unbearable
+hunger for Myra. Yet he could not bring himself to return to her with
+this second and still more humiliating confession of failure.
+
+His one hope was that Myra would find their separation impossible to
+endure, and would send for him. But the days went by, and Myra made no
+sign. She had said she would never send for him unless assured that
+coming to her would mean happiness to him. To this decision she quietly
+adhered.
+
+In a strongly virile man, love towards a woman is, in its essential
+qualities, naturally selfish. Its keynote is, "I need"; its dominant, "I
+want"; its full major chord, "I must possess."
+
+On the other hand, the woman's love for the man is essentially unselfish.
+Its keynote is, "He needs"; its dominant, "I am his, to do with as he
+pleases"; its full major chord, "Let me give all." In the Book of
+Canticles, one of the greatest love-poems ever written, we find this
+truth exemplified; we see the woman's heart learning its lesson, in a
+fine crescendo of self-surrender. In the first stanza she says: "My
+Belovèd is mine, and I am his"; in the second, "I am my Belovèd's and he
+is mine." But in the third, all else is merged in the instinctive joy of
+giving: "I am my Belovèd's, and his desire is towards me."
+
+This is the natural attitude of the sexes, designed by an all-wise
+Creator; but designed for a condition of ideal perfection. No perfect law
+could be framed for imperfection. Therefore, if the working out prove
+often a failure, the fault lies in the imperfection of the workers, not
+in the perfection of the law. In those rare cases where the love is
+ideal, the man's "I take" and the woman's "I give" blend into an ideal
+union, each completing and modifying the other. But where sin of any kind
+comes in, a false note has been struck in the divine harmony, and the
+grand chord of mutual love fails to ring true.
+
+Into their perfect love, Jim Airth had introduced the discord of false
+pride. It had become the basis of his line of action, and their symphony
+of life, so beautiful at first in its sweet theme of mutual love and
+trust, now lost its harmony, and jarred into a hopeless jangle. The very
+fact that she faithfully adhered to her trustful unselfishness,
+acquiescing without a murmur in his decision, made readjustment the more
+impossible. Thus the weeks went by.
+
+Jim Airth worked feverishly at his proofs; drinking and smoking, when he
+should have been eating and sleeping; going off suddenly, after two or
+three days of continuous sitting at his desk, on desperate bouts of
+violent exercise.
+
+He walked down to Shenstone by night; sat, in bitterness of spirit under
+the beeches, surrounded by empty wicker chairs;--a silent ghostly
+garden-party!--watched the dawn break over the lake; prowled around the
+house where Lady Ingleby lay sleeping, and narrowly escaped arrest at the
+hands of Lady Ingleby's night-watchman; leaving for London by the first
+train in the morning, more sick at heart than when he started.
+
+Another time he suddenly turned in at Paddington, took the train down to
+Cornwall, and astonished the Miss Murgatroyds by stalking into the
+coffee-room, the gaunt ghost of his old gay self. Afterwards he went off
+to Horseshoe Cove, climbed the cliff and spent the night on the ledge,
+dwelling in morbid misery on the wonderful memories with which that place
+was surrounded.
+
+It was then that fresh hope, and the complete acceptance of a better
+point of view, came to Jim Airth.
+
+As he sat on the ledge, hugging his lonely misery, he suddenly became
+strangely conscious of Myra's presence. It was as if the sweet wistful
+grey eyes, were turned upon him in the darkness; the tender mouth smiled
+lovingly, while the voice he knew so well asked in soft merriment, as
+under the beeches at Shenstone: "What has come to you, you dearest old
+boy?"
+
+He had just put his hand into his pocket and drawn out his spirit-flask.
+He held it for a moment, while he listened, spellbound, to that whisper;
+then flung it away into the darkness, far down to the sea below. "Davy
+Jones may have it," he said, and laughed aloud; "_who e'er he be!_" It
+was the first time Jim Airth had laughed since that afternoon beneath the
+Shenstone beeches.
+
+Then, with the sense of Myra's presence still so near him, he lay with
+his back to the cliff, his face to the moonlit sea. It seemed to him as
+if again he drew her, shaking and trembling but unresisting, into his
+arms, holding her there in safety until her trembling ceased, and she
+slept the untroubled sleep of a happy child.
+
+All the best and noblest in Jim Airth awoke at that hallowed memory of
+faithful strength on his part, and trustful peace on hers.
+
+"My God," he said, "what a nightmare it has been! And what a fool, I, to
+think anything could come between us. Has she not been utterly mine since
+that sacred night spent here? And I have left her to loneliness and
+grief?.... I will arise and go to my belovèd. No past, no shame, no pride
+of mine, shall come between us any more."
+
+He raised himself on his elbow and looked over the edge. The moonlight
+shone on rippling water lapping the foot of the cliff. He could see his
+watch by its bright light. Midnight! He must wait until three, for the
+tide to go down. He leaned back again, his arms folded across his chest;
+but Myra was still safely within them.
+
+Two minutes later, Jim Airth slept soundly.
+
+The dawn awoke him. He scrambled down to the shore, and once again swam
+up the golden path toward the rising sun.
+
+As he got back into his clothes, it seemed to him that every vestige of
+that black nightmare had been left behind in the gay tossing waters.
+
+On his way to the railway station, he passed a farm. The farmer's wife
+had been up since sunrise, churning. She gladly gave him a simple
+breakfast of home-made bread, with butter fresh from the churn.
+
+He caught the six o'clock express for town; tubbed, shaved, and lunched,
+at his Club.
+
+At a quarter to three he was just coming down the steps into Piccadilly,
+very consciously "clothed and in his right mind," debating which train he
+could take for Shenstone if--as in duty bound--he looked in at his
+publishers' first; when a telegraph boy dashed up the steps into the
+Club, and the next moment the hall-porter hastened after him with a
+telegram.
+
+Jim Airth read it; took one look at his watch; then jumped headlong into
+a passing taxicab.
+
+"Charing Cross!" he shouted to the chauffeur. "And a sovereign if you do
+it in five minutes."
+
+As the flag tinged down, and the taxi glided swiftly forward into the
+whirl of traffic, Jim Airth unfolded the telegram and read it again.
+
+It had been handed in at Shenstone at 2.15.
+
+                        Come to me at once.
+                                         Myra.
+
+A shout of exultation arose within him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+MICHAEL VERITAS
+
+
+On the morning of that day, while Jim Airth, braced with a new resolve
+and a fresh outlook on life, was speeding up from Cornwall, Lady Ingleby
+sat beneath the scarlet chestnuts, watching Ronald and Billy play
+tennis.
+
+They had entered for a tournament, and discovered that they required
+constant practice such as, apparently, could only be obtained at
+Shenstone. In reality they came over so frequently in honest-hearted
+trouble and anxiety over their friend, of whose unexpected sorrow they
+chanced to be the sole confidants. Lady Ingleby refused herself to all
+other visitors. In the trying uncertainty of these few weeks while Jim
+Airth was still in England, she dreaded questions or comments. To Jane
+Dalmain she had written the whole truth. The Dalmains were at Worcester,
+attending a musical festival in that noblest of English cathedrals; but
+they expected soon to return to Overdene, when Jane had promised to come
+to her.
+
+Meanwhile Ronald and Billy turned up often, doing their valiant best to
+be cheerful; but Myra's fragile look, and large pathetic eyes, alarmed
+and horrified them. Obviously things had gone more hopelessly wrong than
+they had anticipated. They had known at once that Airth would not marry
+Lady Ingleby; but it had never occurred to them that Lady Ingleby would
+still wish to marry Airth. Ronald stoutly denied that this was the case;
+but Billy affirmed it, though refusing to give reasons.
+
+Ronald had never succeeded in extorting from Billy one word of what had
+taken place when he had told Lady Ingleby that Jim Airth was the man.
+
+"If you wanted to know how she took it, you should have told her
+yourself," said Billy. "And it will be a saving of useless trouble, Ron,
+if you never ask me again."
+
+Thus the days went by; and, though she always seemed gently pleased to
+see them both, no possible opening had been given to Ronald for assuming
+the rôle of manly comforter.
+
+"I shall give it up," said Ronnie at last, in bitterness of spirit; "I
+tell you, I shall give it up; and marry the duchess!"
+
+"Don't be profane," counselled Billy. "It would be more to the point to
+find Airth, and explain to him, in carefully chosen language, that
+letting Lady Ingleby die of a broken heart will not atone for blowing up
+her husband. I always knew our news would make no difference, from the
+moment I saw her go quite pink when she told us his name. She never went
+pink over Ingleby, you bet! I didn't know they could do it, after
+twenty."
+
+"Much you know, then!" ejaculated Ronnie, scornfully. "I've seen the
+duchess go pink."
+
+"Scarlet, you mean," amended Billy. "So have I, old chap; but that's
+another pair o' boots, as you very well know."
+
+"Oh, don't be vulgar," sighed Ronnie, wearily. "Let's cut the whole thing
+and go to town. Henley begins to-morrow."
+
+But next day they turned up at Shenstone, earlier than usual.
+
+And that morning, Lady Ingleby was feeling strangely restful and at
+peace; not with any expectations of future happiness; but resigned to the
+inevitable; and less apart from Jim Airth. She had fallen asleep the
+night before beset by haunting memories of Cornwall and of their climb up
+the cliff. At midnight she had awakened with a start, fancying herself on
+the ledge, and feeling that she was falling. But instantly Jim Airth's
+arms seemed to enfold her; she felt herself drawn into safety; then that
+exquisite sense of strength and rest was hers once more.
+
+So vivid had been the dream, that its effect remained with her when she
+rose. Thus she sat watching the tennis with a little smile of content on
+her sweet face.
+
+"She is beginning to forget," thought Ronnie, exultant. "_My_ 'vantage!"
+he shouted significantly to Billy, over the net.
+
+"Deuce!" responded Billy, smashing down the ball with unnecessary
+violence.
+
+"No!" cried Ronnie. "Outside, my boy! Game and a 'love' set to me!"
+
+"Stay to lunch, boys," said Lady Ingleby, as the gong sounded; and they
+all three went gaily into the house.
+
+As they passed through the hall afterwards, their motor stood at the
+door; so they bade her good-bye, and turned to find their rackets.
+
+At that moment they heard the sharp ting of a bicycle bell. A boy had
+ridden up with a telegram. Groatley, waiting to see them off, took it;
+picked up a silver salver from the hall table, and followed Lady Ingleby
+to her sitting-room.
+
+There seemed so sudden a silence in the house, that Ronald and Billy with
+one accord stood listening.
+
+"Twenty minutes to two," said Billy, glancing at the clock. "Spirits are
+walking."
+
+The next moment a cry rang out from Lady Ingleby's sitting-room--a cry of
+such mingled bewilderment, wonder, and relief, that they looked at one
+another in amazement. Then without waiting to question or consider, they
+hastened to her.
+
+Lady Ingleby was standing in the middle of the room, an open telegram in
+her hand.
+
+"Jim," she was saying; "Oh, Jim!"
+
+Her face was so transfigured by thankfulness and joy, that neither Ronald
+nor Billy could frame a question. They merely gazed at her.
+
+"Oh, Billy! Oh, Ronald!" she said, "_He didn't do it!_ Oh think what this
+will mean to Jim Airth. Stop the boy! Quick! Bring me a telegram form. I
+must send for him at once.... Oh, Jim, Jim!.... He said he would give his
+life for the relief of the moment when some one should step into the tent
+and tell him he had not done it; and now I shall be that 'some one'!....
+Oh, _how_ do you spell 'Piccadilly'.... Please call Groatley. If we lose
+no time, he may catch the three o'clock express.... Groatley, tell the
+boy to take this telegram and have it sent off immediately. Give him
+half-a-crown, and say he may keep the change.... Now boys.... Shut the
+door!"
+
+The whirlwind of excitement was succeeded by sudden stillness. Lady
+Ingleby sank upon the sofa, burying her face for a moment in the
+cushions.
+
+In the silence they heard the telegraph boy disappearing rapidly into the
+distance, ringing his bell a very unnecessary number of times. When it
+could be heard no longer, Lady Ingleby lifted her head.
+
+"Michael is alive," she said.
+
+"Great Scot!" exclaimed Ronnie, and took a step forward.
+
+Billy made no sound, but he turned very white; backed to the door, and
+leaned against it for support.
+
+"Think what it means to Jim Airth!" said Lady Ingleby. "Think of the
+despair and misery through which he passed; and, after all, he had not
+done it."
+
+"May we see?" asked Ronald eagerly, holding out his hand for the
+telegram.
+
+Billy licked his dry lips, but no sound would come.
+
+"Read it," said Myra.
+
+Ronald took the telegram and read it aloud.
+
+  "_To Lady Ingleby, Shenstone Park, Shenstone, England._
+
+  "_Reported death a mistake. Taken prisoner Targai. Escaped. Arrived
+  Cairo. Large bribes and rewards to pay. Cable five hundred pounds
+  to Cook's immediately._
+
+  "_Michael Veritas._"
+
+"Great Scot!" said Ronnie again.
+
+Billy said nothing; but his eyes never left Lady Ingleby's radiant face.
+
+"Think what it will mean to Jim Airth," she repeated.
+
+"Er--yes," said Ronnie. "It considerably changes the situation--for him.
+What does 'Veritas' mean?"
+
+"That," replied Lady Ingleby "is our private code, Michael's and mine. My
+mother once wired to me in Michael's name, and to Michael in mine--dear
+mamma occasionally does eccentric things--and it made complications.
+Michael was very much annoyed; and after that we took to signing our
+telegrams 'Veritas,' which means: 'This is really from me.'"
+
+"Just think!" said Ronnie. "He, a prisoner; and we, all marching away!
+But I remember now, we always suspected prisoners had been taken at
+Targai. And positive proofs of Lord Ingleby's death were difficult
+to--well, don't you know--to find. I mean--there couldn't be a funeral.
+We had to conclude it, because we believed him to have been right inside
+the tunnel. He must have got clear after all, before Airth sent the
+flash, and getting in with the first rush, been unable to return. Of
+course he has reached Cairo with no money and no means of getting home.
+And the chaps who helped him, will stick to him like leeches till they
+get their pay. What shall you do about cabling?"
+
+Lady Ingleby seemed to collect her thoughts with difficulty.
+
+"Of course the money must be sent--and sent at once," she said. "Oh,
+Ronnie, _could_ you go up to town about it, for me? I would give you a
+cheque, and a note to my bankers; they will know how to cable it through.
+Could you, Ronnie? Michael must not be kept waiting; yet I must stay here
+to tell Jim. It never struck me that I might have gone up to town myself;
+and now I have wired to Jim to come down here. Oh, my dear Ronnie, could
+you?"
+
+"Of course I could," said Ronald, cheerfully. "The motor is at the door.
+I can catch the two-thirty, if you write the note at once. No need for a
+cheque. Just write a few lines authorising your bankers to send out the
+money; I will see them personally; explain the whole thing, and hurry
+them up. The money shall be in Cairo to-night, if possible."
+
+Lady Ingleby went to her davenport.
+
+No sound broke the stillness save the rapid scratching of her pen.
+
+Then Billy spoke. "I will come with you," he said, hoarsely.
+
+"Why do that?" objected Ronald. "You may as well go on in the motor to
+Overdene, and tell them there."
+
+"I am going to town," said Billy, decidedly. Then he walked over to where
+the telegram still lay on the table. "May I copy this?" he asked of Lady
+Ingleby.
+
+"Do," she said, without looking round.
+
+"And Ronnie--you take the original to show them at the bank. Ah, no! I
+must keep that for Jim. Here is paper. Make two copies, Billy."
+
+Billy had already copied the message into his pocket-book. With shaking
+fingers he copied it again, handing the sheet to Ronald, without looking
+at him.
+
+The note written, Lady Ingleby rose.
+
+"Thank you, Ronald," she said. "Thank you, more than I can say. I think
+you will catch the train. And good-bye, Billy."
+
+But Billy was already in the motor.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+LORD INGLEBY'S WIFE
+
+
+The journey down from town had been as satisfactorily rapid as even Jim
+Airth could desire. He had caught the train at Charing Cross by five
+seconds.
+
+The hour's run passed quickly in glowing anticipation of that which was
+being brought nearer by every turn of the wheels.
+
+Myra's telegram was drawn from his pocket-book many times. Each word
+seemed fraught with tender meaning, "_Come to me at once._" It was so
+exactly Myra's simple direct method of expression. Most people would have
+said, "Come here," or "Come to Shenstone," or merely "Come." "Come _to
+me_" seemed a tender, though unconscious, response to his resolution of
+the night before: "I will arise and go to my belovèd."
+
+Now that the parting was nearly over, he realised how terrible had been
+the blank of three weeks spent apart from Myra. Her sweet personality was
+so knit into his life, that he needed her--not at any particular time, or
+in any particular way--but always; as the air he breathed; or as the
+light, which made the day.
+
+And she? He drew a well-worn letter from his pocket-book--the only letter
+he had ever had from Myra.
+
+"I shall always want you," it said; "but I could never send, unless the
+coming would mean happiness for you."
+
+Yet she _had_ sent. Then she had happiness in store for him. Had she
+instinctively realised his change of mind? Or had she gauged his
+desperate hunger by her own, and understood that the satisfying of that,
+_must_ mean happiness, whatever else of sorrow might lie in the
+background?
+
+But there should be no background of anything but perfect joy, when Myra
+was his wife. Would he not have the turning of the fair leaves of her
+book of life? Each page should unfold fresh happiness, hold new
+surprises as to what life and love could mean. He would know how to guard
+her from the faintest shadow of disillusion. Even now it was his right
+to keep her from that. How much, after all, should he tell her of the
+heart-searchings of these wretched weeks? Last night he had meant to
+tell her everything; he had meant to say: "I have sinned against
+heaven--the heaven of our love--and before thee; and am no more
+worthy...." But was it not essential to a woman's happiness to believe the
+man she loved, to be in all ways, worthy? Out of his pocket came again
+the well-worn letter. "I know you decided as you felt right," wrote Myra.
+Why perplex her with explanations? Let the dead past bury its dead. No
+need to cloud, even momentarily, the joy with which they could now go
+forward into a new life. And what a life! Wedded life with Myra----
+
+"Shenstone Junction!" shouted a porter and Jim Airth was across the
+platform before the train had stopped.
+
+The tandem ponies waited outside the station, and this time Jim Airth
+gathered up the reins with a gay smile, flicking the leader, lightly.
+Before, he had said: "I never drive other people's ponies," in response
+to "Her ladyship's" message; but now--"All that's mine, is thine,
+laddie."
+
+He whistled "Huntingtower," as he drove between the hayfields. Sprays of
+overhanging traveller's-joy brushed his shoulder in the narrow lanes. It
+was good to be alive on such a day. It was good not to be leaving
+England, in England's most perfect weather.... Should he take her home to
+Scotland for their honeymoon, or down to Cornwall?
+
+What a jolly little church!
+
+Evidently Myra never slacked pace for a gate. How the ponies dashed
+through, and into the avenue!
+
+Poor Mrs. O'Mara! It had been difficult to be civil to her, when she had
+appeared instead of Myra to give him tea.
+
+Of course Scotland would be jolly, with so much to show her; but Cornwall
+meant more, in its associations. Yes; he would arrange for the honeymoon
+in Cornwall; be married in the morning, up in town; no fuss; then go
+straight down to the old Moorhead Inn. And after dinner, they would sit
+in the honeysuckle arbour, and----
+
+Groatley showed him into Myra's sitting-room.
+
+She was not there.
+
+He walked over to the mantelpiece. It seemed years since that evening
+when, in a sudden fury against Fate, he had crashed his fists upon its
+marble edge. He raised his eyes to Lord Ingleby's portrait. Poor old
+chap! He looked so content, and so pleased with himself, and his little
+dog. But he must have always appeared more like Myra's father than
+her--than anything else.
+
+On the mantelpiece lay a telegram. After the manner of leisurely country
+post-offices, the full address was written on the envelope. It caught Jim
+Airth's eye, and hardly conscious of doing so, he took it up and read it.
+"_Lady Ingleby, Shenstone Park, England._" He laid it down. "England?" he
+wondered, idly. "Who can have been wiring to her from abroad?"
+
+Then he turned. He had not heard her enter; but she was standing behind
+him.
+
+"Myra!" he cried, and caught her to his heart.
+
+The rapture and relief of that moment were unspeakable. No words seemed
+possible. He could only strain her to him, silently, with all his
+strength, and realise that she was safely there at last.
+
+Myra had lifted her arms, and laid them lightly about his neck, hiding
+her face upon his breast.... He never knew exactly when he began to
+realise a subtle change about the quality of her embrace; the woman's
+passionate tenderness seemed missing; it rather resembled the trustful
+clinging of a little child. An uneasy foreboding, for which he could not
+account, assailed Jim Airth.
+
+"Kiss me, Myra!" he said, peremptorily, and she, lifting her sweet face
+to his, kissed him at once. But it was the pure loving kiss of a little
+child.
+
+Then she withdrew herself from his embrace; and, standing back, he looked
+at her, perplexed. The light upon her face seemed hardly earthly.
+
+"Oh, Jim," she said, "God's ways are wonderful! I have such news for you,
+my friend. I thank God, it came before you had gone beyond recall. And I,
+who had been the one, unwittingly, to add so terribly to the weight of
+the lifelong cross you had to bear, am privileged to be the one to lift
+it quite away. Jim--_you did not do it!_"
+
+Jim Airth gazed at her in troubled amazement. Into his mind,
+involuntarily, came the awesome Scotch word "fey."
+
+"I did not do what, dear?" he asked, gently, as if he were speaking to a
+little child whom he was anxious not to frighten.
+
+"You did not kill Michael."
+
+"What makes you think I did not kill Michael, dear?" questioned Jim
+Airth, gently.
+
+"Because," said Myra, with clasped hands, "Michael is alive."
+
+"Dearest heart," said Jim Airth, tenderly, "you are not well. These awful
+three weeks, and what went before, have been too much for you. The strain
+has upset you. I was a brute to go off and leave you. But you knew I did
+what I thought right at the time; didn't you, Myra? Only now I see the
+whole thing quite differently. Your view was the true one. We ought to
+have acted upon it, and been married at once."
+
+"Oh, Jim," said Myra, "thank God we didn't! It would have been so
+terrible now. It must have been a case of 'Even there shall Thy hand lead
+me, and Thy right hand shall hold me.' In our unconscious ignorance, we
+might have gone away together, not knowing Michael was alive."
+
+Beads of perspiration stood on Jim Airth's forehead.
+
+"My darling, you are ill," he said, in a voice of agonised anxiety. "I am
+afraid you are very ill. Do sit down quietly on the couch, and let me
+ring. I must speak to the O'Mara woman, or somebody. Why didn't the fools
+let me know? Have you been ill all these weeks?"
+
+Myra let him place her on the couch; smiling up at him reassuringly, as
+he stood before her.
+
+"You must not ring the bell, Jim," she said. "Maggie is at the Lodge; and
+Groatley would be so astonished. I am quite well."
+
+He looked around, in man-like helplessness; yet feeling something must be
+done. A long ivory fan, of exquisite workmanship, lay on a table near. He
+caught it up, and handed it to her. She took it; and to please him,
+opened it, fanning herself gently as she talked.
+
+"I am not ill, Jim; really dear, I am not. I am only strangely happy and
+thankful. It seems too wonderful for our poor earthly hearts to
+understand. And I am a little frightened about the future--but you will
+help me to face that, I know. And I am rather worried about little things
+I have done wrong. It seems foolish--but as soon as I realised Michael
+was coming home, I became conscious of hosts of sins of omission, and I
+scarcely know where to begin to set them right. And the worst of all
+is--Jim! we have lost little Peter's grave! No one seems able to locate
+it. It is so trying of the gardeners; and so wrong of me; because of
+course I ought to have planted it with flowers. And Michael would have
+expected a little marble slab, by now. But I, stupidly, was too ill to
+see to the funeral; and now Anson declares they put him in the
+plantation, and George swears it was in the shrubbery. I have been
+consulting Groatley who always has ideas, and expresses them so well, and
+he says: 'Choose a suitable spot, m' lady; order a handsome tomb; plant
+it with choice flowers; and who's to be the wiser, till the
+resurrection?' Groatley is always resourceful; but of course I never
+deceive Michael. Fancy little Peter rising from the shrubbery, when
+Michael had mourned for years over a marble tomb on the lawn! But it
+really is a great worry. They must all begin digging, and keep on until
+they find something definite. It will be good for the shrubbery and the
+plantation, like the silly old man in the parable--no, I mean fable--who
+pretended he had hidden a treasure. Oh, Jim, don't look so distressed. I
+ought not to pour out all these trivial things to you; but since I have
+known Michael is coming back, my mind seems to have become foolish and
+trivial again. Michael always has that effect upon me; because--though he
+himself is so great and clever--he really thinks trivial and unimportant
+things are a woman's vocation in life. But oh, Jim--Jim Airth--with _you_
+I am always lifted straight to the big things; and our big thing to-day
+is this:--that you never killed Michael. Do you remember telling me how,
+as you lay in your tent recovering from the fever, if some one could have
+come in and told you Michael was alive and well, and that you had not
+killed him after all, you would have given your life for the relief of
+that moment? Well, _I_ am that 'some one,' and _this_ is the 'moment';
+and when first I had the telegram I could think of nothing--absolutely
+nothing, Jim--but what it would be to you."
+
+"What telegram?" gasped Jim Airth. "In heaven's name, Myra, what do you
+mean?"
+
+"Michael's telegram. It lies on the mantelpiece. Read it, Jim."
+
+Jim Airth turned, took up the telegram and drew it from the envelope with
+steady fingers. He still thought Myra was raving.
+
+He read it through, slowly. The wording was unmistakable; but he read it
+through again. As he did so he slightly turned, so that his back was
+toward the couch.
+
+The blow was so stupendous. He could only realise one thing, for the
+moment:--that the woman who watched him read it, must not as yet see his
+face.
+
+She spoke.
+
+"Is it not almost impossible to believe, Jim? Ronald and Billy were
+lunching here, when it came. Billy seemed stunned; but Ronnie was
+delighted. He said he had always believed the first men to rush in had
+been captured, and that no actual proofs of Michael's death had ever been
+found. They never explained to me before, that there had been no funeral.
+I suppose they thought it would seem more horrible. But I never take much
+account of bodies. If it weren't for the burden of having a weird little
+urn about, and wondering what to do with it, I should approve of
+cremation. I sometimes felt I ought to make a pilgrimage to see the
+grave. I knew Michael would have wished it. He sets much store by
+graves--all the Inglebys lie in family vaults. That makes it worse about
+Peter. Ronnie went up to town at once to telegraph out the money. Billy
+went with him. Do you think five hundred is enough? Jim?--Jim! Are you
+not thankful? Do say something, Jim."
+
+Jim Airth put back the telegram upon the mantelpiece. His big hand
+shook.
+
+"What is 'Veritas'?" he asked, without looking round.
+
+"That is our private code, Jim; Michael's and mine. My mother once wired
+to me in Michael's name, and to him in mine--poor mamma often does
+eccentric things, to get her own way--and it made complications, Michael
+was very much annoyed. So we settled always to sign important telegrams
+'Veritas,' which means: 'This is really from me.'"
+
+"Then--your husband--is coming home to you?" said Jim Airth, slowly.
+
+"Yes, Jim," the sweet voice faltered, for the first time, and grew
+tremulous. "Michael is coming home."
+
+Then Jim Airth turned round, and faced her squarely. Myra had never seen
+anything so terrible as his face.
+
+"You are mine," he said; "not his."
+
+Myra looked up at him, in dumb sorrowful appeal. She closed the ivory
+fan, clasping her hands upon it. The unquestioning finality of her
+patient silence, goaded Jim Airth to madness, and let loose the torrent
+of his fierce wild protest against this inevitable--this unrelenting,
+fate.
+
+"You are mine," he said, "not his. Your love is mine! Your body is mine!
+Your whole life is mine! I will not leave you to another man. Ah, I know
+I said we could not marry! I know I said I should go abroad. But you
+would have remained faithful to me; and I, to you. We might have been
+apart; we might have been lonely; we might have been at different ends of
+the earth; but--we should have been each other's. I could have left you
+to loneliness; but, by God, I will not leave you to another!"
+
+Myra rose, moved forward a few steps and stood, leaning her arm upon the
+mantelpiece and looking down upon the bank of ferns and lilies.
+
+"Hush, Jim," she said, gently. "You forget to whom you are speaking."
+
+"I am speaking," cried Jim Airth, in furious desperation, "to the woman I
+have won for my own; and who is mine, and none other's. If it had not
+been for my pride and my folly, we should have been married by
+now--_married_, Myra--and far away. I left you, I know; but--by heaven, I
+may as well tell you all now--it was pride--damnable false pride--that
+drove me away. I always meant to come back. I was waiting for you to
+send; but anyhow I should have come back. Would to God I had done as you
+implored me to do! By now we should have been together--out of reach of
+this cursed telegram,--and far away!"
+
+Myra slowly lifted her eyes and looked at him. He, blinded by pain and
+passion, failed to mark the look, or he might have taken warning. As it
+was, he rushed on, headlong.
+
+Myra, very white, with eyelids lowered, leaned against the mantelpiece;
+slowly furling and unfurling the ivory fan.
+
+"But, darling," urged Jim Airth, "it is not yet too late. Oh, Myra, I
+have loved you so! Our love has been so wonderful. Have I not taught you
+what love is? The poor cold travesty you knew before--_that_ was not
+love! Oh, Myra! you will come away with me, my own belovèd? You won't put
+me through the hell of leaving you to another man? Myra, look at me! Say
+you will come."
+
+Then Lady Ingleby slowly closed the fan, grasping it firmly in her right
+hand. She threw back her head, and looked Jim Airth full in the eyes.
+
+"So _this_ is your love," she said. "This is what it means? Then I thank
+God I have hitherto only known the 'cold travesty,' which at least has
+kept me pure, and held me high. What? Would you drag _me_ down to the
+level of the woman you have scorned for a dozen years? And, dragging me
+down, would you also trail, with me, in the mire, the noble name of the
+man whom you have ventured to call friend? My husband may not have given
+me much of those things a woman desires. But he has trusted me with his
+name, and with his honour; he has left me, mistress of his home. When he
+comes back he will find me what he himself made me--mistress of
+Shenstone; he will find me where he left me, awaiting his return. You are
+no longer speaking to a widow, Lord Airth; nor to a woman left desolate.
+You are speaking to Lord Ingleby's wife, and you may as well learn how
+Lord Ingleby's wife guards Lord Ingleby's name, and defends her own
+honour, and his." She lifted her hand swiftly and struck him, with the
+ivory fan, twice across the cheek. "Traitor!" she said, "and coward!
+Leave this house, and never set foot in it again!"
+
+Jim Airth staggered back, his face livid--ashen, his hand involuntarily
+raised to ward off a third blow. Then the furious blood surged back. Two
+crimson streaks marked his cheek. He sprang forward; with a swift
+movement caught the fan from Lady Ingleby's hands, and whirled it above
+his head. His eyes blazed into hers. For a moment she thought he was
+going to strike her. She neither flinched nor moved; only the faintest
+smile curved the corners of her mouth into a scornful question.
+
+Then Jim Airth gripped the fan in both hands; with a twist of his strong
+fingers snapped it in half, the halves into quarters, and again, with
+another wrench, crushed those into a hundred fragments--flung them at her
+feet; and, turning on his heel, left the room, and left the house.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+WHAT BILLY KNEW
+
+
+Ronald and Billy had spoken but little, as they sped to the railway
+station, earlier on that afternoon.
+
+"Rummy go," volunteered Ronald, launching the tentative comment into the
+somewhat oppressive silence.
+
+Billy made no rejoinder.
+
+"Why did you insist on coming with me?" asked Ronald.
+
+"I'm not coming with you," replied Billy laconically.
+
+"Where then, Billy? Why so tragic? Are you going to leap from London
+Bridge? Don't do it Billy-boy! You never had a chance. You were merely a
+nice kid. I'm the chap who might be tragic; and see--I'm going to the
+bank to despatch the wherewithal for bringing the old boy back. Take
+example by my fortitude, Billy."
+
+Billy's explosion, when it came, was so violent, so choice, and so unlike
+Billy, that Ronald relapsed into wondering silence.
+
+But once in the train, locked into an empty first-class smoker, Billy
+turned a white face to his friend.
+
+"Ronnie," he said, "I am going straight to Sir Deryck Brand. He is the
+only man I know, with a head on his shoulders."
+
+"Thank you," said Ronnie. "I suppose I dandle mine on my knee. But why
+this urgent need of a man with his head so uniquely placed?"
+
+"Because," said Billy, "that telegram is a lie."
+
+"Nonsense, Billy! The wish is father to the thought! Oh, shame on you,
+Billy! Poor old Ingleby!"
+
+"It is a lie," repeated Billy, doggedly.
+
+"But look," objected Ronald, unfolding the telegram. "Here you are.
+'_Veritas._' What do you make of that?"
+
+"Veritas be hanged!" said Billy. "It's a lie; and we've got to find out
+what damned rascal has sent it."
+
+"But what possible reason have you to throw doubt on it?" inquired
+Ronald, gravely.
+
+"Oh, confound you!" burst out Billy at last; "_I picked up the pieces!_"
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+A very nervous white-faced young man sat in the green leather armchair in
+Dr. Brand's consulting-room. He had shown the telegram, and jerked out a
+few incoherent sentences; after which Sir Deryck, by means of carefully
+chosen questions, had arrived at the main facts. He now sat at his table
+considering them.
+
+Then, turning in his revolving-chair, he looked steadily at Billy.
+
+"Cathcart," he said, quietly, "what reason have you for being so certain
+of Lord Ingleby's death, and that this telegram is therefore a forgery?"
+
+Billy moistened his lips. "Oh, confound it!" he said. "I picked up the
+pieces!"
+
+"I see," said Sir Deryck; and looked away.
+
+"I have never told a soul," said Billy. "It is not a pretty story. But I
+can give you details, if you like."
+
+"I think you had better give me details," said Sir Deryck, gravely.
+
+So, with white lips, Billy gave them.
+
+The doctor rose, buttoning his coat. Then he poured out a glass of water
+and handed it to Billy.
+
+"Come," he said. "Fortunately I know a very cute detective from our own
+London force who happens just now to be in Cairo. We must go to Scotland
+Yard for his address, and a code. In fact we had better work it through
+them. You have done the right thing, Billy; and done it promptly; but we
+have no time to lose."
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+Twenty-four hours later, the doctor called at Shenstone Park. He had
+telegraphed his train requesting to be met by the motor; and he now asked
+the chauffeur to wait at the door, in order to take him back to the
+station.
+
+"I could only come between trains," he explained to Lady Ingleby, "so you
+must forgive the short notice, and the peremptory tone of my telegram. I
+could not risk missing you. I have something of great importance to
+communicate."
+
+The doctor waited a moment, hardly knowing how to proceed. He had seen
+Myra Ingleby under many varying conditions. He knew her well; and she was
+a woman so invariably true to herself, that he expected to be able to
+foresee exactly how she would act under any given combination of
+circumstances.
+
+In this undreamed of development of Lord Ingleby's return, he anticipated
+finding her gently acquiescent; eagerly ready to resume again the duties
+of wifehood; with no thought of herself, but filled with anxious desire
+in all things to please the man who, with his whims and fancies, his
+foibles and ideas, had for nine months passed completely out of her life.
+Deryck Brand had expected to find Lady Ingleby in the mood of a typical
+April day, sunshine and showers rapidly alternating; whimsical smiles,
+succeeded by ready tears; then, with lashes still wet, gay laughter at
+some mistake of her own, or at incongruous behaviour on the part of her
+devoted but erratic household; speedily followed by pathetic anxiety over
+her own supposed short-comings in view of Lord Ingleby's requirements on
+his return.
+
+Instead of this charming personification of unselfish, inconsequent,
+tender femininity, the doctor found himself confronted by a calm cold
+woman, with hard unseeing eyes; a woman in whom something had died; and
+dying, had slain all the best and truest in her womanhood.
+
+"Another man," was the prompt conclusion at which the doctor arrived; and
+this conclusion, coupled with the exigency of his own pressing
+engagements, brought him without preamble, very promptly to the point.
+
+"Lady Ingleby," he said, "a cruel and heartless wrong has been done you
+by a despicable scoundrel, for whom no retribution would be too severe."
+
+"I am perfectly aware of that," replied Lady Ingleby, calmly; "but I fail
+to understand, Sir Deryck, why you should consider it necessary to come
+down here in order to discuss it."
+
+This most unexpected reply for a moment completely nonplussed the doctor.
+But rapid mental adjustment formed an important part of his professional
+equipment.
+
+"I fear we are speaking at cross-purposes," he said, gently. "Forgive me,
+if I appear to have trespassed upon a subject of which I have no
+knowledge whatever. I am referring to the telegram received by you
+yesterday, which led you to suppose the report of Lord Ingleby's death
+was a mistake, and that he might shortly be returning home."
+
+"My husband is alive," said Lady Ingleby. "He has telegraphed to me from
+Cairo, and I expect him back very soon."
+
+For answer, Deryck Brand drew from his pocket-book two telegrams.
+
+"I am bound to tell you at once, dear Lady Ingleby," he said, "that you
+have been cruelly deceived. The message from Cairo was a heartless fraud,
+designed in order to obtain money. Billy Cathcart had reason to suspect
+its genuineness, and brought it to me. I cabled at once to Cairo, with
+this result."
+
+He laid two telegrams on the table before her.
+
+"The first is a copy of one we sent yesterday to a detective out there.
+The second I received three hours ago. No one--not even Billy--has heard
+of its arrival. I have brought it immediately to you."
+
+Lady Ingleby slowly lifted the paper containing the first message. She
+read it in silence.
+
+  Watch Cook's bank and arrest man personating Lord Ingleby who will
+  call for draft of money. Cable particulars promptly.
+
+The doctor observed her closely as she laid down the first message
+without comment, and took up the second.
+
+  Former valet of Lord Ingleby's arrested. Confesses to despatch of
+  fraudulent telegram. Cable instructions.
+
+Lady Ingleby folded both papers and laid them on the table beside her.
+The calm impassivity of the white face had undergone no change.
+
+"It must have been Walker," she said. "Michael always considered him a
+scamp and shifty; but I delighted in him, because he played the banjo
+quite excellently, and was so useful at parish entertainments. Michael
+took him abroad; but had to dismiss him on landing. He wrote and told me
+the fact, but gave no reasons. Poor Walker! I do not wish him punished,
+because I know Michael would think it was largely my own fault for
+putting banjo-playing before character. If Walker had written me a
+begging letter, I should most likely have sent him the money. I have a
+fatal habit of believing in people, and of wanting everybody to be
+happy."
+
+Then, as if these last words recalled a momentarily forgotten wound, the
+stony apathy returned to voice and face.
+
+"If Michael is not coming back," said Lady Ingleby, "I am indeed alone."
+
+The doctor rose, and stood looking down upon her, perplexed and
+sorrowful.
+
+"Is there not some one who should be told immediately of this change of
+affairs, Lady Ingleby?" he asked, gravely.
+
+"No one," she replied, emphatically. "There is nobody whom it concerns
+intimately, excepting myself. And not many know of the arrival of
+yesterday's news. I wrote to Jane, and I suppose the boys told it at
+Overdene. If by any chance it gets into the papers, we must send a
+contradiction; but no explanation, please. I dislike the publication of
+wrong doing. It only leads to imitation and repetition. Beside, even a
+poor worm of a valet should be shielded if possible from public
+execration. We could not explain the extenuating circumstances."
+
+"I do not suppose the news has become widely known," said the doctor.
+"Your household heard it, of course?"
+
+"Yes," replied Lady Ingleby. "Ah, that reminds me, I must stop operations
+in the shrubbery and plantation. There is no object in little Peter
+having a grave, when his master has none."
+
+This was absolutely unintelligible to the doctor; but at such times he
+never asked unnecessary questions, for his own enlightenment.
+
+"So after all, Sir Deryck," added Lady Ingleby, "Peter was right."
+
+"Yes," said the doctor, "little Peter was not mistaken."
+
+"Had I remembered him, I might have doubted the telegram," remarked Lady
+Ingleby. "What can have aroused Billy's suspicions?"
+
+"Like Peter," said the doctor, "Billy had, from the first, felt very
+sure. Do not mention to him that I told you the doubts originated with
+him. He is a sensitive lad, and the whole thing has greatly distressed
+him."
+
+"Dear Billy," said Lady Ingleby.
+
+The doctor glanced at the clock, and buttoned his coat. He had one minute
+to spare.
+
+"My friend," he said, "a second time I have come as the bearer of evil
+tidings."
+
+"Not evil," replied Myra, in a tone of hopeless sadness. "This is not a
+world to which we could possibly desire the return of one we love."
+
+"There is nothing wrong with the world," said the doctor. "Our individual
+heaven or hell is brought about by our own actions."
+
+"Or by the actions of others," amended Lady Ingleby, bitterly.
+
+"Or by the actions of others," agreed the doctor. "But, even then, we
+cannot be completely happy, unless we are true to our best selves; nor
+wholly miserable, unless to our own ideals we become false. I fear I must
+be off; but I do not like leaving you thus alone."
+
+Lady Ingleby glanced at the clock, rose, and gave him her hand.
+
+"You have been more than kind, Sir Deryck, in coming to me yourself. I
+shall never forget it. And I am expecting Jane Champion--Dalmain, I mean;
+why do one's friends get married?--any minute. She is coming direct from
+town; the phaeton has gone to the station to meet her."
+
+"Good," said the doctor, and clasped her hand with the strong silent
+sympathy of a man who, desiring to help, yet realises himself in the
+presence of a grief he is powerless either to understand or to assuage.
+
+"Good--very good," he said, as he stepped into the motor, remarking to
+the chauffeur: "We have nine minutes; and if we miss the train, I must
+ask you to run me up to town."
+
+And he said it a third time, even more emphatically, when he had
+recovered from his surprise at that which he saw as the motor flew down
+the avenue. For, after passing Lady Ingleby's phaeton returning from the
+station empty excepting for a travelling coat and alligator bag left upon
+the seat, he saw the Honourable Mrs. Dalmain walking slowly beneath the
+trees, in earnest conversation with a very tall man, who carried his hat,
+letting the breeze blow through his thick rumpled hair. Both were too
+preoccupied to notice the motor, but as the man turned his haggard face
+toward his companion, the doctor saw in it the same stony look of
+hopeless despair, which had grieved and baffled him in Lady Ingleby's.
+The two were slowly wending their way toward the house, by a path leading
+down to the terrace.
+
+"Evidently--the man," thought the doctor. "Well, I am glad Jane has him
+in tow. Poor souls! Providence has placed them in wise hands. If faithful
+counsel and honest plain-speaking can avail them anything, they will
+undoubtedly receive both, from our good Jane."
+
+Providence also arranged that the London express was one minute late, and
+the doctor caught it. Whereat the chauffeur rejoiced; for he was "walking
+out" with Her ladyship's maid, whose evening off it chanced to be. The
+all-important events of life are apt to hang upon the happenings of one
+minute.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+MRS. DALMAIN REVIEWS THE SITUATION
+
+
+"So you see, Jane," concluded Lady Ingleby, pathetically, "as Michael is
+not coming back, I am indeed alone."
+
+"Loving Jim Airth as you do--" said Jane Dalmain.
+
+"Did," interposed Lady Ingleby.
+
+"Did, and do," said Jane Dalmain, "you would have been worse than alone
+if Michael had, after all, come back. Oh, Myra! I cannot imagine anything
+more unendurable, than to love one man, and be obliged to live with
+another."
+
+"I should not have allowed myself to go on loving Jim," said Lady
+Ingleby.
+
+"Rubbish!" pronounced Mrs. Dalmain, with forceful decision. "My dear
+Myra, that kind of remark paves the way for the devil, and is one of his
+favourite devices. More good women have been tripped by over-confidence
+in their ability to curb and to control their own affections, than by
+direct temptation to love where love is not lawful. Men are different;
+their temptations are not so subtle. They know exactly to what it will
+lead, if they dally with sentiment. Therefore, if they mean to do the
+right thing in the end, they keep clear of the danger at the beginning.
+We cannot possibly forbid ourselves to go on loving, where love has once
+been allowed to reign supreme. I know you would not, in the first
+instance, have let yourself care for Jim Airth, had you not been free.
+But, once loving him, if so appalling a situation could have arisen as
+the unexpected return of your husband, your only safe and honourable
+course would have been to frankly tell Lord Ingleby: 'I grew to love Jim
+Airth while I believed you dead. I shall always love Jim Airth; but, I
+want before all else to be a good woman and a faithful wife. Trust me to
+be faithful; help me to be good.' Any man, worth his salt, would respond
+to such an appeal."
+
+"And shoot himself?" suggested Lady Ingleby.
+
+"I said 'man,' not 'coward,'" responded Mrs. Dalmain, with fine scorn.
+
+"Jane, you are so strong-minded," murmured Lady Ingleby. "It goes with
+your linen collars, your tailor-made coats, and your big boots. I cannot
+picture myself in a linen collar, nor can I conceive of myself as
+standing before Michael and informing him that I loved Jim!"
+
+Jane Dalmain laughed good-humouredly, plunged her large hands into the
+pockets of her tweed coat, stretched out her serviceable brown boots and
+looked at them.
+
+"If by 'strong-minded' you mean a wholesome dislike to the involving of a
+straightforward situation in a tangle of disingenuous sophistry, I plead
+guilty," she said.
+
+"Oh, don't quote Sir Deryck," retorted Lady Ingleby, crossly. "You ought
+to have married him! I never could understand such an artist, such a
+poet, such an eclectic idealist as Garth Dalmain, falling in love with
+_you_, Jane!"
+
+A sudden light of womanly tenderness illumined Jane's plain face. "The
+wife" looked out from it, in simple unconscious radiance.
+
+"Nor could I," she answered softly. "It took me three years to realise it
+as an indubitable fact."
+
+"I suppose you are very happy," remarked Myra.
+
+Jane was silent. There were shrines in that strong nature too wholly
+sacred to be easily unveiled.
+
+"I remember how I hated the idea, after the accident," said Myra, "of
+your tying yourself to blindness."
+
+"Oh, hush," said Jane Dalmain, quickly. "You tread on sacred ground, and
+you forget to remove your shoes. From the first, the sweetest thing
+between my husband and myself has been that, together, we learned to kiss
+that cross."
+
+"Dear old thing!" said Lady Ingleby, affectionately; "you deserved to be
+happy. All the same I never can understand why you did not marry Deryck
+Brand."
+
+Jane smiled. She could not bring herself to discuss her husband, but she
+was very willing at this critical juncture to divert Lady Ingleby from
+her own troubles by entering into particulars concerning herself and the
+doctor.
+
+"My dear," she said, "Deryck and I were far too much alike ever to have
+dovetailed into marriage. All our points would have met, and our
+differences gaped wide. The qualities which go to the making of a perfect
+friendship by no means always ensure a perfect marriage. There was a time
+when I should have married Deryck had he asked me to do so, simply
+because I implicitly trusted his judgment in all things, and it would
+never have occurred to me to refuse him anything he asked. But it would
+not have resulted in our mutual happiness. Also, at that time, I had no
+idea what love really meant. I no more understood love until--until Garth
+taught me, than you understood it before you met Jim Airth."
+
+"I wish you would not keep on alluding to Jim Airth," said Myra, wearily.
+"I never wish to hear his name again. And I cannot allow you to suppose
+that I should ever have adopted your strong-minded suggestion, and
+admitted to Michael that I loved Jim. I should have done nothing of the
+kind. I should have devoted myself to pleasing Michael in all things, and
+_made myself_--yes, Jane; you need not look amused and incredulous;
+though I _don't_ wear collars and shooting-boots, I _can_ make myself do
+things--I should have made myself forget that there was such a person in
+this world as the Earl of Airth and Monteith."
+
+"Oh spare him that!" laughed Mrs. Dalmain. "Don't call the poor man by
+his titles. If he must be hanged, at least let him hang as plain Jim
+Airth. If one had to be wicked, it would be so infinitely worse to be a
+wicked earl, than wicked in any other walk of life. It savours so
+painfully of the 'penny-dreadful', or the cheap novelette. Also, my dear,
+there is nothing to be gained by discussing a hypothetical situation,
+with which you do not after all find yourself confronted. Mercifully,
+Lord Ingleby is not coming back."
+
+"Mercifully!" exclaimed Lady Ingleby. "Really, Jane, you are crude beyond
+words, and most unsympathetic. You should have heard how tactfully the
+doctor broke it to me, and how kindly he alluded to my loss."
+
+"My dear Myra," said Mrs. Dalmain, "I don't waste sympathy on false
+sentiment. And if Deryck had known you were already engaged to another
+man, instead of devoting to you four hours of his valuable time, he could
+have sent a sixpenny wire: 'Telegram a forgery. Accept heartfelt
+congratulations!'"
+
+"Jane, you are brutal. And seeing that I have just told you the whole
+story of these last weeks, with the cruel heart-breaking finale of
+yesterday, I fail to understand how you can speak of me as engaged to
+another man."
+
+Instantly Jane Dalmain's whole bearing altered. She ceased looking
+quizzically amused, and left off swinging her brown boot. She sat up,
+uncrossed her knees, and leaning her elbows upon them, held out her large
+capable hands to Lady Ingleby. Her noble face, grandly strong and tender,
+in its undeniable plainness, was full of womanly understanding and
+sympathy.
+
+"Ah, my dear," she said, "now we must come to the crux of the whole
+matter. I have merely been playing around the fringe of the subject, in
+order to give you time to recover from the inevitable strain of the long
+and painful recital you have felt it necessary to make, in order that I
+might fully understand your position in all its bearings. The real
+question is this: Are you going to forgive Jim Airth?"
+
+"I must never forgive him," said Lady Ingleby, with finality, "because,
+if I forgave him, I could not let him go."
+
+"Why let him go, when his going leaves your whole life desolate?"
+
+"Because," said Myra, "I feel I could not trust him; and I dare not marry
+a man whom I love as I love Jim Airth, unless I can trust him as
+implicitly as I trust my God. If I loved him less, I would take the risk.
+But I feel, for him, something which I can neither understand nor define;
+only I know that in time it would make him so completely master of me
+that, unless I could trust him absolutely--I should be afraid."
+
+"Is a man never to be trusted again," asked Jane, "because, under sudden
+fierce temptation, he has failed you once?"
+
+"It is not the failing once," said Myra. "It is the light thrown upon the
+whole quality of his love--of that _kind_ of love. The passion of it
+makes it selfish--selfish to the degree of being utterly regardless of
+right and wrong, and careless of the welfare of its unfortunate object.
+My fair name would have been smirched; my honour dragged in the mire; my
+present, blighted; my future, ruined; but what did _he_ care? It was all
+swept aside in the one sentence: 'You are mine, not his. You must come
+away with me.' I cannot trust myself to a love which has no standard of
+right and wrong. We look at it from different points of view. _You_ see
+only the man and his temptation. _I_ knew the priceless treasure of the
+love; therefore the sin against that love seems to me unforgivable."
+
+Mrs. Dalmain looked earnestly at her friend. Her steadfast eyes were
+deeply troubled.
+
+"Myra," she said, "you are absolutely right in your definitions, and
+correct in your conclusions. But your mistake is this. You make no
+allowance for the sudden, desperate, overwhelming nature of the
+temptation before which Jim Airth fell. Remember all that led up to it.
+Think of it, Myra! He stood so alone in the world; no mother, no wife, no
+woman's tenderness. And those ten hard years of worse than loneliness,
+when he fought the horrors of disillusion, the shame of betrayal, the
+bitterness of desertion; the humiliation of the stain upon his noble
+name. Against all this, during ten long years, he struggled; fought a
+manful fight, and overcame. Then--strong, hardened, lonely; a man grown
+to man's full heritage of self-contained independence--he met you, Myra.
+His ideals returned, purified and strengthened by their passage through
+the fire. Love came, now, in such gigantic force, that the pigmy passion
+of early youth was dwarfed and superseded. It seemed a new and untasted
+experience such as he had not dreamed life could contain. Three weeks of
+it, he had; growing in certainty, increasing in richness, every day; yet
+tempered by the patient waiting your pleasure, for eagerly expected
+fulfilment. Then the blow--so terrible to his sensibilities and to his
+manly pride; the horrible knowledge that his own hand had brought loss
+and sorrow to you, whom he would have shielded from the faintest shadow
+of pain. Then his mistake in allowing false pride to come between you.
+Three weeks of growing hunger and regret, followed by your summons, which
+seemed to promise happiness after all; for, remember while _you_ had been
+bringing yourself to acquiesce in his decision as absolutely final, so
+that the news of Lord Ingleby's return meant no loss to you and to him,
+merely the relief of his exculpation, _he_ had been coming round to a
+more reasonable point of view, and realising that, after all, he had not
+lost you. You sent for him, and he came--once more aglow with love and
+certainty--only to hear that he had not only lost you himself, but must
+leave you to another man. Oh Myra! Can you not make allowance for a
+moment of fierce madness? Can you not see that the very strength of the
+man momentarily turned in the wrong direction, brought about his
+downfall? You tell me you called him coward and traitor? You might as
+well have struck him! Such words from your lips must have been worse than
+blows. I admit he deserved them; yet Saint Peter was thrice a coward and
+a traitor, but his Lord, making allowance for a sudden yielding to
+temptation, did not doubt the loyalty of his love, but gave him a chance
+of threefold public confession, and forgave him. If Divine Love could do
+this--oh, Myra, can _you_ let your lover go out into the world again,
+alone, without one word of forgiveness?"
+
+"How do I know he wants my forgiveness, Jane? He left me in a towering
+fury. And how could my forgiveness reach him, even supposing he desired
+it, or I could give it? Where is he now?"
+
+"He left you in despair," said Mrs. Dalmain, "and--he is in the
+library."
+
+Lady Ingleby rose to her feet.
+
+"Jane! Jim Airth in this house! Who admitted him?"
+
+"I did," replied Mrs. Dalmain, coolly. "I smuggled him in. Not a soul saw
+us enter. That was why I sent the carriage on ahead, when we reached the
+park gates. We walked up the avenue, turned down on to the terrace and
+slipped in by the lower door. He has been sitting in the library ever
+since. If you decide not to see him, I can go down and tell him so; he
+can go out as he came in, and none of your household will know he has
+been here. Dear Myra, don't look so distraught. Do sit down again, and
+let us finish our talk.... That is right. You must not be hurried. A
+decision which affects one's whole life, cannot be made in a minute, nor
+even in an hour. Lord Airth does not wish to force an interview, nor do I
+wish to persuade you to grant him one. He will not be surprised if I
+bring him word that you would rather not see him."
+
+"Rather not?" cried Myra, with clasped hands. "Oh Jane, if you could know
+what the mere thought of seeing him means to me, you would not say
+'rather not,' but 'dare not.'"
+
+"Let me tell you how we met," said Mrs. Dalmain, ignoring the last
+remark. "I reached Charing Cross in good time; stopped at the book stall
+for a supply of papers; secured an empty compartment, and settled down to
+a quiet hour. Jim Airth dashed into the station with barely one minute in
+which to take his ticket and reach the train. He tore up the platform, as
+the train began to move; had not time to reach a smoker; wrenched open
+the door of my compartment; jumped in headlong, and sat down upon my
+papers; turned to apologise, and found himself shut in alone for an hour
+with the friend to whom you had written weekly letters from Cornwall, and
+of whom you had apparently told him rather nice things--or, at all events
+things which led him to consider me trustworthy. He recognised me by a
+recent photograph which you had shown him."
+
+"I remember," said Myra. "I kept it in my writing-case. He took it up and
+looked at it several times. I often spoke to him of you."
+
+"He introduced himself with straightforward simplicity," continued Mrs.
+Dalmain, "and then--we neither of us knew quite how it happened--in a few
+minutes we were talking without reserve. I believe he felt frankness with
+me on his part might enable me, in the future, to be a comfort to
+you--you are his one thought; also, that if I interceded, you would
+perhaps grant him that which he came to seek--the opportunity to ask your
+forgiveness. Of course we neither of us had the slightest idea of the
+possibility that yesterday's telegram could be incorrect. He sails for
+America almost immediately, but could not bring himself to leave England
+without having expressed to you his contrition, and obtained your pardon.
+He would have written, but did not feel he ought, for your sake, to run
+the risk of putting explanations on to paper. Also I honestly believe it
+is breaking his heart, poor fellow, to feel that you and he parted
+forever, in anger. His love for you is a very great love, Myra."
+
+"Oh, Jane," cried Lady Ingleby, "I cannot let him go! And yet--I _cannot_
+marry him. I love him with every fibre of my whole being, and yet I
+cannot trust him. Oh, Jane, what shall I do?"
+
+"You must give him a chance," said Mrs. Dalmain, "to retrieve his
+mistake, and to prove himself the man we know him to be. Say to him,
+without explanation, what you have just said to me: that you _cannot let
+him go_; and see how he takes it. Listen, Myra. The unforeseen
+developments of the last few hours have put it into your power to give
+Jim Airth his chance. You must not rob him of it. Years ago, when Garth
+and I were in an apparently hopeless tangle of irretrievable mistake,
+Deryck found us a way out. He said if Garth could go _behind his
+blindness_ and express an opinion which he only could have given while he
+had his sight, the question might be solved. I need not trouble you with
+details, but that was exactly what happened, and our great happiness
+resulted. Now, in your case, Jim Airth must be given the chance to go
+_behind his madness_, regain his own self-respect, and prove himself
+worthy of your trust. Have you told any one of the second telegram from
+Cairo?"
+
+"I saw nobody," said Lady Ingleby, "from the moment Sir Deryck left me,
+until you walked in."
+
+"Very well. Then you, and Deryck, and I, are the only people in England
+who know of it. Jim Airth will have no idea of any change of conditions
+since yesterday. Do you see what that means, Myra?"
+
+Lady Ingleby's pale face flushed. "Oh Jane, I dare not! If he failed
+again----"
+
+"He will not fail," replied Mrs. Dalmain, with decision; "but should he
+do so, he will have proved himself, as you say, unworthy of your trust.
+Then--you can forgive him, and let him go."
+
+"I cannot let him go!" cried Myra. "And yet I cannot marry him, unless he
+is all I have believed him to be."
+
+"Ah, my dear, my dear!" said Mrs. Dalmain, tenderly. "You need to learn a
+lesson about married life. True happiness does not come from marrying an
+idol throned on a pedestal. Before Galatea could wed Pygmalion, she had
+to change from marble into glowing flesh and blood, and step down from
+off her pedestal. Love should not make us blind to one another's faults.
+It should only make us infinitely tender, and completely understanding.
+Let me tell you a shrewd remark of Aunt Georgina's on that subject.
+Speaking to a young married woman who considered herself wronged and
+disillusioned because, the honeymoon over, she discovered her husband not
+to be in all things absolutely perfect: 'Ah, my good girl,' said Aunt
+'Gina, rapping the floor with her ebony cane; 'you made a foolish mistake
+if you imagined you were marrying an angel, when we have it, on the very
+highest authority, that the angels neither marry nor are given in
+marriage. Men and women, who are human enough to marry, are human enough
+to be full of faults; and the best thing marriage provides is that each
+gets somebody who will love, forgive, and understand. If you had waited
+for perfection, you would have reached heaven a spinster, which would
+have been, to say the least of it, dull--when you had had the chance of
+matrimony on earth! Go and make it up with that nice boy of yours, or I
+shall find him some pretty--' But the little bride, her anger dissolving
+in laughter and tears, had fled across the lawn in pursuit of a tall
+figure in tweeds, stalking in solitary dudgeon towards the river. They
+disappeared into the boathouse, and soon after we saw them in a tiny
+skiff for two, and heard their happy laughter. 'Silly babies!' said Aunt
+'Gina, crossly, 'they'll do it once too often, when I'm not there to
+spank them; and then there'll be a shipwreck! Oh, why did Adam marry, and
+spoil that peaceful garden?' Whereat Tommy, the old scarlet macaw, swung
+head downwards from his golden perch, with such shrieks of delighted
+laughter, mingled with appropriate profanity, that Aunt 'Gina's
+good-humour was instantly restored. 'Give him a strawberry, somebody!'
+she said; and spoke no more on things matrimonial."
+
+Myra laughed. "The duchess's views are always refreshing. I wonder
+whether Michael and I made the mistake of not realising each other to be
+human; of not admitting there was anything to forgive, and therefore
+never forgiving?"
+
+"Well, don't make it with Jim Airth," advised Mrs. Dalmain, "for he is
+the most human man I ever met; also the strongest, and one of the most
+lovable. Myra, there is nothing to be gained by waiting. Let me send him
+to you now; and, remember, all he asks or expects is one word of
+forgiveness."
+
+"Oh, Jane!" cried Lady Ingleby, with clasped hands. "Do wait a little
+while. Give me time to think; time to consider; time to decide."
+
+"Nonsense, my dear," said Mrs. Dalmain, "When but one right course lies
+before you, there can be no possible need for hesitation or
+consideration. You are merely nervously postponing the inevitable. You
+remind me of scenes we used to have in the out-patient department of a
+hospital in the East End of London, to which I once went for training.
+When patients came to the surgery for teeth extraction, and the pretty
+sympathetic little nurse in charge had got them safely fixed into the
+chair; as one of the doctors, prompt and alert, came forward with
+unmistakably business-like forceps ready, the terrified patient would
+exclaim: 'Oh, let the nurse do it! Let the nurse do it!' the idea
+evidently being that three or four diffident pulls by the nurse, were
+less alarming than the sharp certainty of _one_ from the doctor. Now, my
+dear Myra, you have to face your ordeal. If it is to be successful there
+must be no uncertainty."
+
+"Oh, Jane, I wish you were not such a decided person. I am sure when
+_you_ were the nurse, the poor things preferred the doctors. I am
+terrified; yet I know you are right. And, oh, you dear, don't leave me!
+See me through."
+
+"I am never away from Garth for a night, as you know," said Mrs. Dalmain.
+"But he and little Geoff went down to Overdene this morning, with Simpson
+and nurse; so, if your man can motor me over during the evening, I will
+stay as long as you need me."
+
+"Ah, thanks," said Lady Ingleby. "And now, Jane, you have done all you
+can for me; and God knows how much that means. I want to be quite alone
+for an hour. I feel I must face it out, and decide what I really intend
+doing. I owe it to Jim, I owe it to myself, to be quite sure what I mean
+to say, before I see him. Order tea in the library. Tell him I will see
+him; and, at the end of the hour, send him here. But, Jane--not a hint of
+anything which has passed between us. I may rely on you?"
+
+"My dear," said Mrs. Dalmain, gently, "I play the game!"
+
+She rose and stood on the hearthrug, looking intently at her husband's
+painting of Lord Ingleby.
+
+"And, Myra," she said at last, "I do entreat you to remember, you are
+dealing with an unknown quantity. You have never before known intimately
+a man of Jim Airth's temperament. His love for you, and yours for him,
+hold elements as yet not fully understood by you. Remember this, in
+drawing your conclusions. I had almost said, Let instinct guide, rather
+than reason."
+
+"I understand your meaning," said Lady Ingleby. "But I dare not depend
+upon either instinct or reason. I have not been a religious woman, Jane,
+as of course you know; but--I have been learning lately; and, as I learn,
+I try to practise. I feel myself to be in so dark and difficult a place,
+that I am trying to say, 'Even _there_ shall Thy hand lead me, and Thy
+right Hand shall hold me.'"
+
+"Ah, you are right," said Jane's deep earnest voice; "that is the best of
+all. God's hand alone leads surely, out of darkness into light."
+
+She put a kind arm firmly around her friend, for a moment.
+
+Then:--"I will send him to you in an hour," she said, and left the room.
+
+Lady Ingleby was alone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+THE TEST
+
+
+The door of Myra's sitting-room opened quietly, and Jim Airth came in.
+
+She awaited him upon the couch, sitting very still, her hands folded in
+her lap.
+
+The room seemed full of flowers, and of soft sunset light.
+
+He closed the door, and came and stood before her.
+
+For a few moments they looked steadily into one another's faces.
+
+Then Jim Airth spoke, very low.
+
+"It is so good of you to see me," he said. "It is almost more than I had
+ventured to hope. I am leaving England in a few hours. It would have been
+hard to go--without this. Now it will be easy."
+
+She lifted her eyes to his, and waited in silence.
+
+"Myra," he said, "can you forgive me?"
+
+"I do not know, Jim," she answered, gently. "I want to be quite honest
+with you, and with myself. If I had cared less, I could have forgiven
+more easily."
+
+"I know," he said. "Oh, Myra, I know. And I would not have you forgive
+lightly, so great a sin against our love. But, dear--if, before I go, you
+could say, 'I understand,' it would mean almost more to me, than if you
+said, 'I forgive.'"
+
+"Jim," said Myra, gently, a tremor of tenderness in her sweet voice, "I
+understand."
+
+He came quite near, and took her hands in his, holding them for a moment,
+with tender reverence.
+
+"Thank you, dear," he said. "You are very good."
+
+He loosed her hands, and again she folded them in her lap. He walked to
+the mantelpiece and stood looking down upon the ferns and lilies.
+
+She marked the stoop of his broad shoulders; the way in which he seemed
+to find it difficult to hold up his head. Where was the proud gay
+carriage of the man who swung along the Cornish cliffs, whistling like a
+blackbird?
+
+"Jim," she said, "understanding fully, of course I forgive fully, if it
+is possible that between you and me, forgiveness should pass. I have been
+thinking it over, since I knew you were in the house, and wondering why I
+feel it so impossible to say, 'I forgive you.' And, Jim--I think it is
+because you and I are so _one_ that there is no room for such a thing as
+forgiveness to pass from me to you, or from you to me. Complete
+comprehension and unfailing love, take the place of what would be
+forgiveness between those who were less to each other."
+
+He lifted his eyes, for a moment, full of a dumb anguish, which wrung her
+heart.
+
+"Myra, I must go," he said, brokenly. "There was so much I had to tell
+you; so much to explain. But all need of this seems swept away by your
+divine tenderness and comprehension. All my life through I shall carry
+with me, deep hidden in my heart, these words of yours. Oh, my dear--my
+dear! Don't speak again! Let them be the last. Only--may I say it?--never
+let thoughts of me, sadden your fair life. I am going to America--a grand
+place for fresh beginnings; a land where one can work, and truly live; a
+land where earnest endeavour meets with fullest success, and where a
+man's energy may have full scope. I want you to think of me, Myra, as
+living, and working, and striving; not going under. But, if ever I feel
+like going under, I shall hear your dear voice singing at my shoulder, in
+the little Cornish church, on the quiet Sabbath evening, in the sunset:
+'Eternal Father, strong to save,' ... And--when I think of you, my
+dear--my dear; I shall know your life is being good and beautiful every
+hour, and that you are happy with--" he lifted his eyes to Lord Ingleby's
+portrait; they dwelt for a moment on the kind quiet face--"with one of
+the best of men," said Jim Airth, bravely
+
+He took a last look at her face. Silent tears stole slowly down it, and
+fell upon her folded hands.
+
+A spasm of anguish shot across Jim Airth's set features.
+
+"Ah, I must go," he said, suddenly. "God keep you, always."
+
+He turned so quickly, that his hand was actually upon the handle of the
+door, before Myra reached him, though she sprang up, and flew across the
+room.
+
+"Jim," she said, breathlessly. "Stop, Jim! Ah, stop! Listen! Wait!--Jim,
+I have always known--I told Jane so--that if I forgave you, I could not
+let you go." She flung her arms around his neck, as he stood gazing at
+her in dumb bewilderment. "Jim, my belovèd! I cannot let you go; or, if
+you go, you must take me with you. I cannot live without you, Jim
+Airth!"
+
+For the space of a dozen heart-beats he stood silent, while she hung
+around him; her head upon his breast, her clinging arms about his neck.
+
+Then a cry so terrible burst from him, that Myra's heart stood still.
+
+"Oh, my God," he cried, "this is the worst of all! Have I, in falling,
+dragged _her_ down? Now, indeed am I broken--broken. What was the loss of
+my own pride, my own honour, my own self-esteem, to this? Have I soiled
+her fair whiteness; weakened the noble strength of her sweet purity? Oh,
+not this--my God, not this!"
+
+He lifted his hands to his neck, took hers by the wrists, and forcibly
+drew them down, stepping back a pace, so that she must lift her head.
+
+Then, holding her hands against his breast: "Lady Ingleby," he said,
+"lift your eyes, and look into my face."
+
+Slowly--slowly--Myra lifted her grey eyes. The fire of his held her; she
+felt the strength of him mastering her, as it had often done before. She
+could scarcely see the anguish in his face, so vivid was the blaze of his
+blue eyes.
+
+"Lady Ingleby," he said, and the grip of his hands on hers, tightened.
+"Lady Ingleby--we stood like this together, you and I, on a fast
+narrowing strip of sand. The cruel sea swept up, relentless. A high cliff
+rose in front--our only refuge. I held you thus, and said: 'We must
+climb--or drown.' Do you remember?--I say it now, again. The only
+possible right thing to do is steep and difficult; but we must climb. We
+must mount above our lower selves; away from this narrowing strip of
+dangerous sand; away from this cruel sea of fierce temptation; up to the
+breezy cliff-top, up to the blue above, into the open of honour and right
+and perfect purity. You stood there, until now; you stood there--brave
+and beautiful. I dragged you down--God forgive me, I brought you into
+danger--Hush! listen! You must climb again; you must climb alone; but
+when I am gone, your climbing will be easy. You will soon find yourself
+standing, safe and high, above these treacherous dangerous waters.
+Forgive me, if I seem rough." He forced her gently backwards to the
+couch. "Sit there," he said, "and do not rise, until I have left the
+house. And if ever these moments come back to you, Lady Ingleby,
+remember, the whole blame was mine.... Hush, I tell you; hush! And will
+you loose my hands?"
+
+But Myra clung to those big hands, laughing, and weeping, and striving to
+speak.
+
+"Oh, Jim--my Jim!--you can't leave me to climb alone, because I am all
+your own, and free to be yours and no other man's, and together, thank
+God, we can stand on the cliff-top where His hand has led us.
+Dearest--Jim, dearest--don't pull away from me, because I must cling on,
+until you have read these telegrams. Oh, Jim, read them quickly! ... Sir
+Deryck Brand brought them down from town this afternoon. And oh, forgive
+me that I did not tell you at once.... I wanted you to prove yourself,
+what I knew you to be, faithful, loyal, honourable, brave, the man of all
+men whom I trust; the man who will never fail me in the upward climb,
+until we stand together beneath the blue on the heights of God's eternal
+hills.... Oh, Jim----"
+
+Her voice faltered into silence; for Jim Airth knelt at her feet, his
+head in her lap, his arms flung around her, and he was sobbing as only a
+strong man can sob, when his heart has been strained to breaking point,
+and sudden relief has come.
+
+Myra laid her hands, gently, upon the roughness of his hair. Thus they
+stayed long, without speaking or moving.
+
+And in those sacred minutes Myra learned the lesson which ten years of
+wedded life had failed to teach: that in the strongest man there is,
+sometimes, the eternal child--eager, masterful, dependent, full of
+needs; and that, in every woman's love there must therefore be an
+element of the eternal mother--tender, understanding, patient; wise, yet
+self-surrendering; able to bear; ready to forgive; her strength made
+perfect in weakness.
+
+At length Jim Airth lifted his head.
+
+The last beams of the setting sun, entering through the western window,
+illumined, with a ray of golden glory, the lovely face above him. But he
+saw on it a radiance more bright than the reflected glory of any earthly
+sunset.
+
+"Myra?" he said, awe and wonder in his voice. "Myra? What is it?"
+
+And clasping her hands about his neck as he knelt before her, she drew
+his head to her breast, and answered:
+
+"I have learnt a lesson, my belovèd; a lesson only you could teach. And I
+am very happy and thankful, Jim; because I know, that at last, I--even
+I--am ready for wifehood."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+"WHAT SHALL WE WRITE?"
+
+
+The hall at the Moorhead Inn seemed very homelike to Jim Airth and Myra,
+as they stood together looking around it, on their arrival.
+
+Jim had set his heart upon bringing his wife there, on the evening of
+their wedding day. Therefore they had left town immediately after the
+ceremony; dined _en route_, and now stood, as they had so often stood
+before when bidding one another good-night, in the lamp-light, beside the
+marble table.
+
+"Oh, Jim dear," whispered Myra, throwing back her travelling cloak,
+"doesn't it all seem natural? Look at the old clock! Five minutes past
+ten. The Miss Murgatroyds must have gone up, in staid procession, exactly
+four minutes ago. Look at the stag's head! There is the antler, on the
+topmost point of which you always hung your cap."
+
+"Myra----"
+
+"Yes, dear. Oh, I hope the Murgatroyds are still here. Let's look in the
+book.... Yes, see! Here are their names with date of arrival, but none of
+departure. And, oh, dearest, here is 'Jim Airth,' as I first saw it
+written; and look at 'Mrs. O'Mara' just beneath it! How well I remember
+glancing back from the turn of the staircase, seeing you come out and
+read it, and wishing I had written it better. You can set me plenty of
+copies now, Jim."
+
+"Myra!----"
+
+"Yes, dear. Do you know I am going to fly up and unpack. Then I will come
+out to the honeysuckle arbour and sit with you while you smoke. And we
+need not mind being late; because the dear ladies, not knowing we have
+returned, will not all be sleeping with doors ajar. But oh Jim, you
+_must_--however late it is--plump your boots out into the passage, just
+for the fun of making Miss Susannah's heart jump unexpectedly."
+
+"Myra! Oh, I say! My wife----"
+
+"Yes, darling, I know! But I am perfectly certain 'Aunt Ingleby' is
+peeping out of her little office at the end of the passage; also, Polly
+has finished helping Sam place our luggage upstairs, and I can _feel_
+her, hanging over the top banisters! Be patient for just a little while,
+my Jim. Let's put our names in the visitors' book. What shall we write?
+Really we shall be obliged eventually to let them know who you are. Think
+what an excitement for the Miss Murgatroyds. But, just for once, I am
+going to write myself down by the name, of all others, I have most wished
+to bear."
+
+So, smiling gaily up at her husband, then bending over the table to hide
+her happy face from the adoration of his eyes, the newly-made Countess of
+Airth and Monteith took up the pen; and, without pausing to remove her
+glove, wrote in the visitors' book of the Moorhead Inn, in the clear bold
+handwriting peculiarly her own:
+
+Mrs. Jim Airth
+
+----------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+THE MASTER'S VIOLIN
+By MYRTLE REED
+
+A Love Story with a musical atmosphere. A picturesque, old German
+virtuoso is the reverent possessor of a genuine Cremona. He consents to
+take as his pupil a handsome youth who proves to have an aptitude for
+technique, but not the soul of the artist. The youth has led the happy,
+careless life of a modern, well-to-do young American, and he cannot, with
+his meagre past, express the love, the longing, the passion and the
+tragedies of life and its happy phases as can the master who has lived
+life in all its fulness. But a girl comes into his existence, a beautiful
+bit of human driftwood that his aunt had taken into her heart and home;
+and through his passionate love for her, he learns the lessons that life
+has to give--and his soul awakens.
+
+Founded on a fact well known among artists, but not often recognized or
+discussed.
+
+If you have not read "Lavender and Old Lace" by the same author, you have
+a double pleasure in store--for these two books show Myrtle Reed in her
+most delightful, fascinating vein--indeed they may be considered as
+masterpieces of compelling interest.
+
+Ask for complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction
+GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, NEW YORK
+
+----------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+THE PRODIGAL JUDGE
+By VAUGHAN KESTER
+
+This great novel--probably the most popular book in this country
+to-day--is as human as a story from the pen of that great master of
+"immortal laughter and immortal tears," Charles Dickens.
+
+The Prodigal Judge is a shabby outcast, a tavern hanger-on, a genial
+wayfarer who tarries longest where the inn is most hospitable, yet with
+that suavity, that distinctive politeness and that saving grace of humor
+peculiar to the American man. He has his own code of morals--very exalted
+ones--but honors them in the breach rather than in the observance.
+
+Clinging to the Judge closer than a brother, is Solomon Mahaffy--fallible
+and failing like the rest of us, but with a sublime capacity for
+friendship; and closer still, perhaps, clings little Hannibal, a boy
+about whose parentage nothing is known until the end of the story.
+Hannibal is charmed into tolerance of the Judge's picturesque vices,
+while Miss Betty, lovely and capricious, is charmed into placing all her
+affairs, both material and sentimental, in the hands of this delightful
+old vagabond.
+
+The Judge will be a fixed star in the firmament of fictional characters
+as surely as David Harum or Col. Sellers. He is a source of infinite
+delight, while this story of Mr. Roster's is one of the finest examples
+of American literary craftmanship.
+
+Ask for complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction
+GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Mistress of Shenstone, by Florence L. Barclay
+
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+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">
+<head>
+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" />
+<title>
+The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Mistress of Shenstone, by Florence L. Barclay.
+</title>
+
+<style type="text/css">
+/*<![CDATA[  XML blockout */
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+    p                 {margin-top: 0.5em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: 0.5em;}
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+</head>
+<body>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+Project Gutenberg's The Mistress of Shenstone, by Florence L. Barclay
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Mistress of Shenstone
+
+Author: Florence L. Barclay
+
+Release Date: August 9, 2008 [EBook #26235]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MISTRESS OF SHENSTONE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:2em; margin-top:1em;'>THE MISTRESS</p>
+<p style=' font-size:2em; margin-bottom:2em;'>OF SHENSTONE</p>
+<div style='margin-top:1em'></div>
+<p style=' font-size:1em;'>BY</p>
+<p style=' font-size:1.1em; margin-bottom:2em;'>FLORENCE L. BARCLAY</p>
+<div style='margin-top:1em'></div>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>AUTHOR OF</p>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em; margin-bottom:4em;'>THE ROSARY, ETC.</p>
+<div style='margin-top:1em'></div>
+<p style=' font-size:1em;'>GROSSET &amp; DUNLAP</p>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em; margin-bottom:1em;'>PUBLISHERS&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;:&nbsp;&nbsp;:&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;NEW YORK</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Copyright</span>, 1910</p>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>BY</p>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em; margin-bottom:2em;'>FLORENCE L. BARCLAY</p>
+</div>
+
+<table summary='' style='font-size:.8em'>
+<tr><td>The Rosary</td><td>The Following of the Star</td></tr>
+<tr><td>The Mistress of Shenstone</td><td>The Broken Halo</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Through the Postern Gate</td><td>The Wall of Partition</td></tr>
+<tr><td>The Upas Tree</td><td>My Heart's Right There</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em; margin-top:2em;'>This edition is issued under arrangement with the publishers</p>
+<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>G. P. Putnam&#8217;s Sons, New York and London</span></p>
+<div style='margin-top:1em'></div>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>The Knickerbocker Press, New York</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p>To</p>
+<p>C. W. B.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em; margin-bottom:1em;'>Contents</p>
+</div>
+
+<table border='0' width='500' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-size:small;'>CHAPTER</span></td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td align='right'><span style='font-size:small;'>PAGE</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>I</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>On the Terrace at Shenstone</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#I_ON_THE_TERRACE_AT_SHENSTONE'>1</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>II</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Forerunner</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#II_THE_FORERUNNER'>8</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>III</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>What Peter Knew</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#III_WHAT_PETER_KNEW'>23</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IV</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>In Safe Hands</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IV_IN_SAFE_HANDS'>48</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>V</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Lady Ingleby&#8217;s Rest-Cure</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#V_LADY_INGLEBY_S_RESTCURE'>61</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VI</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>At The Moorhead Inn</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VI_AT_THE_MOORHEAD_INN'>77</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VII</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Mrs. O&#8217;Mara&#8217;s Correspondence</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VII_MRS_O_MARA_S_CORRESPONDENCE'>82</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VIII</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>In Horseshoe Cove</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VIII_IN_HORSESHOE_COVE'>105</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IX</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Jim Airth To The Rescue</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IX_JIM_AIRTH_TO_THE_RESCUE'>111</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>X</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>&#8220;Yeo Ho, We Go!&#8221;</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#X__YEO_HO_WE_GO'>114</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XI</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>&#8217;Twixt Sea And Sky</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XI__TWIXT_SEA_AND_SKY'>129</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XII</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Under The Morning Star</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XII_UNDER_THE_MORNING_STAR'>152</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIII</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Awakening</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XIII_THE_AWAKENING'>159</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIV</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Golden Days</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XIV_GOLDEN_DAYS'>170</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XV</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>&#8220;Where Is Lady Ingleby?&#8221;</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XV__WHERE_IS_LADY_INGLEBY'>190</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XVI</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Under The Beeches At Shenstone</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XVI_UNDER_THE_BEECHES_AT_SHENSTONE'>205</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XVII</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>&#8220;Surely You Knew?&#8221;</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XVII__SURELY_YOU_KNEW'>214</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XVIII</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>What Billy Had To Tell</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XVIII_WHAT_BILLY_HAD_TO_TELL'>220</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIX</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Jim Airth Decides</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XIX_JIM_AIRTH_DECIDES'>231</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XX</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A Better Point Of View</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XX_A_BETTER_POINT_OF_VIEW'>250</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXI</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Michael Veritas</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXI_MICHAEL_VERITAS'>260</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXII</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Lord Ingleby&#8217;s Wife</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXII_LORD_INGLEBY_S_WIFE'>271</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXIII</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>What Billy Knew</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXIII_WHAT_BILLY_KNEW'>289</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXIV</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Mrs. Dalmain Reviews the Situation</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXIV_MRS_DALMAIN_REVIEWS_THE_SITUATION'>303</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXV</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Test</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXV_THE_TEST'>327</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXVI</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>&#8220;What Shall We Write?&#8221;</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXVI__WHAT_SHALL_WE_WRITE'>337</a></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_1' name='page_1'></a>1</span></div>
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em; margin-top:2em; font-style:italic;'>The Mistress of Shenstone</p>
+</div>
+
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 0em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='I_ON_THE_TERRACE_AT_SHENSTONE' id='I_ON_THE_TERRACE_AT_SHENSTONE'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER I</h2>
+<h3>ON THE TERRACE AT SHENSTONE</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Three o&#8217;clock on a dank afternoon, early
+in November. The wintry sunshine, in
+fitful gleams, pierced the greyness of the
+leaden sky.</p>
+<p>The great trees in Shenstone Park stood
+gaunt and bare, spreading wide arms over the
+sodden grass. All nature seemed waiting the
+first fall of winter&#8217;s snow, which should hide
+its deadness and decay under a lovely pall of
+sparkling white, beneath which a promise of
+fresh life to come might gently move and
+stir; and, eventually, spring forth.</p>
+<p>The Mistress of Shenstone moved slowly up
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_2' name='page_2'></a>2</span>
+and down the terrace, wrapped in her long
+cloak, listening to the soft &#8220;drip, drip&#8221; of
+autumn all around; noting the silent fall of the
+last dead leaves; the steely grey of the lake
+beyond; the empty flower-garden; the deserted
+lawn.</p>
+<p>The large stone house had a desolate
+appearance, most of the rooms being, evidently,
+closed; but, in one or two, cheerful
+log-fires blazed, casting a ruddy glow upon
+the window-panes, and sending forth a tempting
+promise of warmth and cosiness within.</p>
+<p>A tiny white toy-poodle walked the terrace
+with his mistress&mdash;an agitated little bundle of
+white curls; sometimes running round and
+round her; then hurrying on before, or dropping
+behind, only to rush on, in unexpected
+haste, at the corners; almost tripping her up,
+as she turned.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Peter,&#8221; said Lady Ingleby, on one of these
+occasions, &#8220;I do wish you would behave in a
+more rational manner! Either come to heel
+and follow sedately, as a dog of your age
+should do; or trot on in front, in the gaily
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_3' name='page_3'></a>3</span>
+juvenile manner you assume when Michael
+takes you out for a walk; but, for goodness
+sake, don&#8217;t be so fidgety; and don&#8217;t run round
+and round me in this bewildering way, or I
+shall call for William, and send you in. I
+only wish Michael could see you!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The little animal looked up at her,
+pathetically, through his tumbled curls&mdash;a
+soft silky mass, which had earned for him his
+name of Shockheaded Peter. His eyes, red-rimmed
+from the cold wind, had that unseeing
+look, often noticeable in a very old
+dog. Yet there was in them, and in the whole
+pose of his tiny body, an anguish of anxiety,
+which could not have escaped a genuine dog-lover.
+Even Lady Ingleby became partially
+aware of it. She stooped and patted his
+head.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Poor little Peter,&#8221; she said, more kindly.
+&#8220;It is horrid, for us both, having Michael so
+far away at this tiresome war. But he will
+come home before long; and we shall forget all
+the anxiety and loneliness. It will be spring
+again. Michael will have you properly
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_4' name='page_4'></a>4</span>
+clipped, and we will go to Brighton, where
+you enjoy trotting about, and hearing people
+call you &#8216;The British Lion.&#8217; I verily believe
+you consider yourself the size of the lions in
+Trafalgar Square! I cannot imagine why a
+great big man, such as Michael, is so devoted
+to a tiny scrap of a dog, such as you! Now,
+if you were a Great Dane, or a mighty St.
+Bernard&mdash;! However, Michael loves us both,
+and we both love Michael; so we must be
+nice to each other, little Peter, while he is
+away.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Myra Ingleby smiled, drew the folds of
+her cloak more closely around her, and moved
+on. A small white shadow, with no wag to
+its tail, followed dejectedly behind.</p>
+<p>And the dead leaves, loosing their hold of
+the sapless branches, fluttered to the sodden
+turf; and the soft &#8220;drip, drip&#8221; of autumn fell
+all around.</p>
+<p>The door of the lower hall opened. A
+footman, bringing a telegram, came quickly
+out. His features were set, in well-trained
+impassivity; but his eyelids flickered nervously
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_5' name='page_5'></a>5</span>
+as he handed the silver salver to his
+mistress.</p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby&#8217;s lovely face paled to absolute
+whiteness beneath her large beaver hat;
+but she took up the orange envelope with
+a steady hand, opening it with fingers which
+did not tremble. As she glanced at the
+signature, the colour came back to her cheeks.</p>
+<p>&#8220;From Dr. Brand,&#8221; she said, with an
+involuntary exclamation of relief; and the
+waiting footman turned and nodded furtively
+toward the house. A maid, at a window,
+dropped the blind, and ran to tell the anxious
+household all was well.</p>
+<p>Meanwhile, Lady Ingleby read her telegram.</p>
+<div class='blockquot'>
+<p>Visiting patient in your neighbourhood. Can
+you put me up for the night? Arriving 4.30.</p>
+<p>Deryck Brand.</p>
+</div>
+<p>Lady Ingleby turned to the footman.
+&#8220;William,&#8221; she said, &#8220;tell Mrs. Jarvis, Sir
+Deryck Brand is called to this neighbourhood,
+and will stay here to-night. They can light
+a fire at once in the magnolia room, and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_6' name='page_6'></a>6</span>
+prepare it for him. He will be here in an
+hour. Send the motor to the station. Tell
+Groatley we will have tea in my sitting-room
+as soon as Sir Deryck arrives. Send down
+word to the Lodge to Mrs. O&#8217;Mara, that I
+shall want her up here this evening. Oh,
+and&mdash;by the way&mdash;mention at once at the
+Lodge that there is no further news from
+abroad.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, m&#8217; lady,&#8221; said the footman; and
+Myra Ingleby smiled at the reflection, in the
+lad&#8217;s voice and face, of her own immense
+relief. He turned and hastened to the house;
+Peter, in a sudden access of misplaced energy,
+barking furiously at his heels.</p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby moved to the front of the
+terrace and stood beside one of the stone
+lions, close to an empty vase, which in summer
+had been a brilliant mass of scarlet geraniums.
+Her face was glad with expectation.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Somebody to talk to, at last!&#8221; she said.
+&#8220;I had begun to think I should have to brave
+dear mamma, and return to town. And
+Sir Deryck of all people! He wires from
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7' name='page_7'></a>7</span>
+Victoria, so I conclude he sees his patient
+<i>en route</i>, or in the morning. How perfectly
+charming of him to give me a whole evening.
+I wonder how many people would, if they
+knew of it, be breaking the tenth commandment
+concerning me! ... Peter, you little
+fiend! Come here! Why the footmen, and
+gardeners, and postmen, do not kick out
+your few remaining teeth, passes me! You
+pretend to be too unwell to eat your dinner,
+and then behave like a frantic hyena, because
+poor innocent William brings me a telegram!
+I shall write and ask Michael if I may have
+you hanged.&#8221;</p>
+<p>And, in high good humour, Lady Ingleby
+went into the house.</p>
+<p>But, outside, the dead leaves turned slowly,
+and rustled on the grass; while the soft &#8220;drip,
+drip&#8221; of autumn fell all around. The dying
+year was almost dead; and nature waited for
+her pall of snow.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='II_THE_FORERUNNER' id='II_THE_FORERUNNER'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8' name='page_8'></a>8</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER II</h2>
+<h3>THE FORERUNNER</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>&#8220;What it is to have somebody to talk to,
+at last! And <i>you</i>, of all people, dear
+Doctor! Though I still fail to understand how
+a patient, who has brought you down to these
+parts, can wait for your visit until to-morrow
+morning, thus giving a perfectly healthy
+person, such as myself, the inestimable
+privilege of your company at tea, dinner,
+and breakfast, with delightful <i>tête-à-têtes</i> in
+between. All the world knows your minutes
+are golden.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Thus Lady Ingleby, as she poured out the
+doctor&#8217;s tea, and handed it to him.</p>
+<p>Deryck Brand placed the cup carefully on
+his corner of the folding tea-table, helped
+himself to thin bread-and-butter; then answered,
+with his most charming smile,</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mine would be a very dismal profession
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9' name='page_9'></a>9</span>
+dear lady, if it precluded me from ever having
+a meal, or a conversation, or from spending a
+pleasant evening, with a perfectly healthy
+person. I find the surest way to live one&#8217;s
+life to the full, accomplishing the maximum
+amount of work with the minimum amount of
+strain, is to cultivate the habit of living in the
+present; giving the whole mind to the scene,
+the subject, the person, of the moment.
+Therefore, with your leave, we will dismiss
+my patients, past and future; and enjoy, to
+the full, this unexpected <i>tête-à-tête</i>.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Myra Ingleby looked at her visitor. His
+forty-two years sat lightly on him, notwithstanding
+the streaks of silver in the dark
+hair just over each temple. There was a
+youthful alertness about the tall athletic figure;
+but the lean brown face, clean shaven and
+reposeful, held a look of quiet strength and
+power, mingled with a keen kindliness and ready
+comprehension, which inspired trust, and drew
+forth confidence.</p>
+<p>The burden of a great loneliness seemed
+lifted from Myra&#8217;s heart.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10' name='page_10'></a>10</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you always put so much salt on your
+bread-and-butter?&#8221; she said. &#8220;And how
+glad I am to be &#8216;the person of the moment.&#8217;
+Only&mdash;until this mysterious &#8216;patient in the
+neighbourhood&#8217; demands your attention,&mdash;you
+ought to be having a complete holiday,
+and I must try to forget that I am talking to
+the greatest nerve specialist of the day, and
+only realise the pleasure of entertaining so
+good a friend of Michael&#8217;s and my own.
+Otherwise I should be tempted to consult you;
+for I really believe, Sir Deryck, for the first
+time in my life, I am becoming neurotic.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor did not need to look at his
+hostess. His practised eye had already noted
+the thin cheeks; the haunted look; the purple
+shadows beneath the lovely grey eyes, for
+which the dark fringes of black eyelashes were
+not altogether accountable. He leaned forward
+and looked into the fire.</p>
+<p>&#8220;If such is really the case,&#8221; he said, &#8220;that
+you should be aware of it, is so excellent
+a symptom, that the condition cannot be
+serious. But I want you to remember,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span>
+Lady Ingleby, that I count all my patients,
+friends; also that my friends may consider
+themselves at liberty, at any moment, to
+become my patients. So consult me, if I
+can be of any use to you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor helped himself to more bread-and-butter,
+folding it with careful precision.</p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby held out her hand for his
+cup, grateful that he did not appear to notice
+the rush of unexpected tears to her eyes.
+She busied herself with the urn until she could
+control her voice; then said, with a rather
+tremulous laugh: &#8220;Ah, thank you! Presently&mdash;if
+I may&mdash;I gladly will consult you. Meanwhile,
+how do you like &#8216;the scene of the
+moment&#8217;? Do you consider my boudoir
+improved? Michael made all these alterations
+before he went away. The new electric
+lights are a patent arrangement of his own.
+And had you seen his portrait? A wonderful
+likeness, isn&#8217;t it?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor looked around him, appreciatively.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have been admiring the room, ever since
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span>
+I entered,&#8221; he said. &#8220;It is charming.&#8221;
+Then he raised his eyes to the picture over
+the mantelpiece:&mdash;the life-sized portrait of a
+tall, bearded man, with the high brow of the
+scholar and thinker; the eyes of the mystic;
+the gentle unruffled expression of the saint.
+He appeared old enough to be the father of
+the woman in whose boudoir his portrait
+was the central object. The artist had
+painted him in an old Norfolk shooting-suit,
+leather leggings, hunting-crop in hand, seated
+in a garden chair, beside a rustic table.
+Everything in the picture was homely, old,
+and comfortable; the creases in the suit were
+old friends; the ancient tobacco pouch on the
+table was worn and stained. Russet-brown
+predominated, and the highest light in the
+painting was the clear blue of those dreamy,
+musing eyes. They were bent upon the
+table, where sat, in an expectant attitude of
+adoring attention, a white toy-poodle. The
+palpable devotion between the big man and
+the tiny dog, the concentrated affection with
+which they looked at one another, were very
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span>
+cleverly depicted. The picture might have
+been called: &#8220;We two&#8221;; also it left an impression
+of a friendship in which there had
+been no room for a third. The doctor glanced,
+for an instant, at the lovely woman on the
+lounge, behind the silver urn, and his
+subconsciousness propounded the question:
+&#8220;Where did <i>she</i> come in?&#8221; But the next
+moment he turned towards the large armchair
+on his right, where a small dejected mass of
+white curls lay in a huddled heap. It was
+impossible to distinguish between head and
+tail.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is this the little dog?&#8221; asked the doctor.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes; that is Peter. But in the picture
+he is smart and properly clipped, and feeling
+better than he does just now. Peter and
+Michael are devoted to each other; and, when
+Michael is away, Peter is left in my charge.
+But I am not fond of small dogs; and I really
+consider Peter very much spoilt. Also I
+always feel he just tolerates me because I am
+Michael&#8217;s wife, and remains with me because,
+where I am, there Michael will return. But
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span>
+I am quite kind to him, for Michael&#8217;s sake.
+Only he really is a nasty little dog; and too
+old to be allowed to continue. Michael
+always speaks of him as if he were quite too
+good to live; and, personally, I think it is
+high time he went where all good dogs go.
+I cannot imagine what is the matter with
+him now. Since yesterday afternoon he has
+refused all his food, and been so restless
+and fidgety. He always sleeps on Michael&#8217;s
+bed; and, as a rule, after I have put him
+there, and closed the door between Michael&#8217;s
+room and mine, I hear no more of Peter, until
+he barks to be let out in the morning, and my
+maid takes him down-stairs. But last night,
+he whined and howled for hours. At length
+I got up, found Michael&#8217;s old shooting jacket&mdash;the
+very one in the portrait&mdash;and laid it on the
+bed. Peter crawled into it, and cuddled
+down, I folded the sleeves around him, and
+he seemed content. But to-day he still
+refuses to eat. I believe he is dyspeptic, or
+has some other complaint, such as dogs develop
+when they are old. Honestly&mdash;don&#8217;t
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span>
+you think&mdash;a little effective poison, in an
+attractive pill&mdash;&mdash;?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, hush!&#8221; said the doctor. &#8220;Peter may
+not be asleep.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby laughed. &#8220;My dear Sir
+Deryck! Do you suppose animals understand
+our conversation?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Indeed I do,&#8221; replied the doctor. &#8220;And
+more than that, they do not require the
+medium of language. Their comprehension
+is telepathic. They read our thoughts. A
+nervous rider or driver can terrify a horse.
+Dumb creatures will turn away from those
+who think of them with dislike or aversion;
+whereas a true lover of animals can win them
+without a spoken word. The thought of love
+and of goodwill reaches them telepathically,
+winning instant trust and response. Also, if
+we take the trouble to do so, we can, to a great
+extent, arrive at their ideas, in the same
+way.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Extraordinary!&#8221; exclaimed Lady Ingleby.
+&#8220;Well, I wish you would thought-read
+what is the matter with Peter. I shall not
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span>
+know how to face Michael&#8217;s home-coming,
+if anything goes wrong with his belovèd
+dog.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor lay back in his armchair; crossed
+his knees the one over the other; rested his
+elbows on the arms of the chair; then let his
+finger-tips meet very exactly. Instinctively
+he assumed the attitude in which he usually
+sat when bending his mind intently on a
+patient. Presently he turned and looked
+steadily at the little white heap curled up in
+the big armchair.</p>
+<p>The room was very still.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Peter!&#8221; said the doctor, suddenly.</p>
+<p>Peter sat up at once, and peeped at the
+doctor, through his curls.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Poor little Peter,&#8221; said the doctor, kindly.</p>
+<p>Peter moved to the edge of the chair; sat
+very upright, and looked eagerly across to
+where the doctor was sitting. Then he
+wagged his tail, tapping the chair with
+quick, anxious, little taps.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The first wag I have seen in twenty-four
+hours,&#8221; remarked Lady Ingleby; but
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span>
+neither Deryck Brand nor Shockheaded Peter
+heeded the remark.</p>
+<p>The anxious eyes of the dog were gazing,
+with an agony of question, into the kind keen
+eyes of the man.</p>
+<p>Without moving, the doctor spoke.</p>
+<p>&#8220;<i>Yes</i>, little Peter,&#8221; he said.</p>
+<p>Peter&#8217;s small tufted tail ceased thumping.
+He sat very still for a moment; then quietly
+moved back to the middle of the chair, turned
+round and round three or four times; then lay
+down, dropping his head between his paws
+with one long shuddering sigh, like a little
+child which has sobbed itself to sleep.</p>
+<p>The doctor turned, and looked at Lady
+Ingleby.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What does that mean?&#8221; queried Myra,
+astonished.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Little Peter asked a question,&#8221; replied
+Sir Deryck, gravely; &#8220;and I answered it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Wonderful! Will you talk this telepathy
+over with Michael when he comes home?
+It would interest him.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor looked into the fire.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;It is a big subject,&#8221; he said. &#8220;When I
+can spare the time, I am thinking of writing
+an essay on the mental and spiritual development
+of animals, as revealed in the Bible.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Balaam&#8217;s ass?&#8221; suggested Lady Ingleby,
+promptly.</p>
+<p>The doctor smiled. &#8220;Quite so,&#8221; he said.
+&#8220;But Balaam&#8217;s ass is neither the only animal
+in the Bible, nor the most interesting case.
+Have you ever noticed the many instances
+in which animals immediately obeyed God&#8217;s
+commands, even when those commands ran
+counter to their strongest instincts? For
+instance:&mdash;the lion, who met the disobedient
+man of God on the road from Bethel. The
+instinct of the beast, after slaying the man,
+would have been to maul the body, drag it
+away into his lair, and devour it. But the
+Divine command was:&mdash;that he should slay,
+but not eat the carcass, nor tear the ass.
+The instinct of the ass would have been to
+flee in terror from the lion; but, undoubtedly,
+a Divine assurance overcame her natural
+fear; and all men who passed by beheld this
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span>
+remarkable sight:&mdash;a lion and an ass standing
+sentry, one on either side of the dead body of
+the man of God; and there they remained
+until the old prophet from Bethel arrived, to
+fetch away the body and bury it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Extraordinary!&#8221; said Lady Ingleby. &#8220;So
+they did. And now one comes to think of it
+there are plenty of similar instances. The
+instinct of the serpent which Moses lifted up
+on a pole, would have been to come scriggling
+down, and go about biting the Israelites, instead
+of staying up on the pole, to be looked
+at for their healing.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor smiled. &#8220;Quite so,&#8221; he said,
+&#8220;Only, we must not quote him as an instance;
+because, being made of brass, I fear he was
+devoid of instinct. Otherwise he would have
+been an excellent case in point. And I
+believe animals possess far more spiritual
+life than we suspect. Do you remember a
+passage in the Psalms which says that the
+lions &#8216;seek their meat from God&#8217;? And, more
+striking still, in the same Psalm we read of the
+whole brute creation, that when God hides
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span>
+His face &#8216;they are troubled.&#8217; Good heavens!&#8221;
+said the doctor, earnestly; &#8220;I wish <i>our</i> spiritual
+life always answered to these two tests:&mdash;that
+God&#8217;s will should be paramount over our
+strongest instincts; and that any cloud between
+us and the light of His face, should
+cause us instant trouble of soul.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I like that expression &#8216;spiritual life,&#8217;&#8221;
+said Lady Ingleby. &#8220;I am sure you mean
+by it what other people sometimes express
+so differently. Did you hear of the Duchess
+of Meldrum attending that big evangelistic
+meeting in the Albert Hall? I really don&#8217;t
+know exactly what it was. Some sort of
+non-sectarian mission, I gather, with a preacher
+over from America; and the meetings went on
+for a fortnight. It would never have occurred
+to me to go to them. But the dear old
+duchess always likes to be &#8216;in the know&#8217; and
+to sample everything. Besides, she holds a
+proprietary stall. So she sailed into the
+Albert Hall one afternoon, in excellent time,
+and remained throughout the entire proceedings.
+She enjoyed the singing; thought
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span>
+the vast listening crowd, marvellous; was
+moved to tears by the eloquence of the
+preacher, and was leaving the hall more
+touched than she had been for years, and
+fully intending to return, bringing others with
+her, when a smug person, hovering about
+the entrance, accosted her with: &#8216;Excuse me
+madam; are you a Christian?&#8217; The duchess
+raised her lorgnette in blank amazement, and
+looked him tip and down. Very likely the
+tears still glistened upon her proud old face.
+Anyway this impossible person appears to have
+considered her a promising case. Emboldened
+by her silence, he laid his hand upon her arm,
+and repeated his question: &#8216;Madam, are you
+a Christian?&#8217; Then the duchess awoke to the
+situation with a vengeance. &#8216;My good man,&#8217;
+she said, clearly and deliberately, so that all
+in the lobby could hear; &#8216;I should have thought
+it would have been perfectly patent to your
+finely trained perceptions, that I am an
+engaging mixture of Jew, Turk, Infidel, and
+Heathen Chinee! Now, if you will kindly
+stand aside, I will pass to my carriage.&#8217;&mdash;And
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span>
+the duchess sampled no more evangelistic
+meetings!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor sighed. &#8220;Tactless,&#8221; he said.
+&#8220;Ah, the pity of it, when &#8216;fools rush in where
+angels fear to tread!&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;People scream with laughter, when the
+duchess tells it,&#8221; said Lady Ingleby; &#8220;but then
+she imitates the unctuous person so exactly;
+and she does not mention the tears. I have
+them from an eye-witness. But&mdash;as I was
+saying&mdash;I like your expression: &#8216;spiritual
+life.&#8217; It really holds a meaning; and, though
+one may have to admit one does not possess
+any, or, that what one does possess is at a
+low ebb, yet one sees the genuine thing in
+others, and it is something to believe in, at all
+events.&mdash;Look how peacefully little Peter is
+sleeping. You have evidently set his mind
+at rest. That is Michael&#8217;s armchair; and,
+therefore, Peter&#8217;s. Now we will send away
+the tea-things; and then&mdash;may I become a
+patient?&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='III_WHAT_PETER_KNEW' id='III_WHAT_PETER_KNEW'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER III</h2>
+<h3>WHAT PETER KNEW</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>&#8220;Isn&#8217;t my good Groatley a curious looking
+person?&#8221; said Lady Ingleby, as the door
+closed behind the butler. &#8220;I call him the
+Gryphon, because he looks perpetually astonished.
+His eyebrows are like black horseshoes,
+and they mount higher and higher up
+his forehead as one&#8217;s sentence proceeds. But
+he is very faithful, and knows his work, and
+Michael approves him. Do you like this
+portrait of Michael? Garth Dalmain stayed
+here a few months before he lost his sight,
+poor boy, and painted us both. I believe
+mine was practically his last portrait. It
+hangs in the dining-room.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor moved his chair opposite the
+fireplace, so that he could sit facing the
+picture over the mantelpiece, yet turn readily
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span>
+toward Lady Ingleby on his left. On his
+right, little Peter, with an occasional sobbing
+sigh, slept heavily in his absent master&#8217;s chair.
+The log-fire burned brightly. The electric
+light, from behind amber glass, sent a golden
+glow as of sunshine through the room. The
+dank damp drip of autumn had no place in
+this warm luxury. The curtains were closely
+drawn; and that which is not seen, can be
+forgotten.</p>
+<p>The doctor glanced at the clock. The
+minute-hand pointed to the quarter before
+six.</p>
+<p>He lifted his eyes to the picture.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I hardly know Lord Ingleby sufficiently
+well to give an opinion; but I should say it is
+an excellent likeness, possessing, to a large
+degree, the peculiar quality of all Dalmain&#8217;s
+portraits:&mdash;the more you look at them, the
+more you see in them. They are such extraordinary
+character studies. With your
+increased knowledge of the person, grows
+your appreciation of the cleverness of the
+portrait.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&#8221; said Lady Ingleby, leaning forward
+to look intently up at the picture. &#8220;It often
+startles me as I come into the room, because I
+see a fresh expression on the face, just according
+to my own mood, or what I happen to have
+been doing; and I realise Michael&#8217;s mind on
+the subject more readily from the portrait
+than from my own knowledge of him. Garth
+Dalmain was a genius!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now tell me,&#8221; said the doctor, gently.
+&#8220;Why did you leave town, your many friends,
+your interests there, in order to bury yourself
+down here, during this dismal autumn weather?
+Surely the strain of waiting for news would
+have been less, within such easy reach of the
+War Office and of the evening papers.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby laughed, rather mirthlessly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I came away, Sir Deryck, partly to escape
+from dear mamma; and as you do not know
+dear mamma, it is almost impossible for you
+to understand how essential it was to escape.
+When Michael is away, I am defenceless.
+Mamma swoops down; takes up her abode in
+my house; reduces my household, according
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span>
+to their sex and temperament, to rage, hysterics,
+or despair; tells unpalatable home-truths
+to my friends, so that all&mdash;save the duchess&mdash;flee
+discomforted. Then mamma proceeds
+to &#8216;divide the spoil&#8217;! In other words: she
+lies in wait for my telegrams, and opens them
+herself, saying that if they contain <i>good</i>
+news, a dutiful daughter should delight in at
+once sharing it with her; whereas, if they contain
+<i>bad</i> news, which heaven forbid!&mdash;and
+surely, with mamma snorting skyward, heaven
+would not venture to do otherwise!&mdash;<i>she</i>
+is the right person to break it to me,
+gently. I bore it for six weeks; then fled down
+here, well knowing that not even the dear
+delight of bullying me would bring mamma to
+Shenstone in autumn.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor&#8217;s face was grave. For a moment
+he looked silently into the fire. He was
+a man of many ideals, and foremost among
+them was his ideal of the relation which should
+be between parents and children; of the loyalty
+to a mother, which, even if forced to admit
+faults or failings, should tenderly shield them
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span>
+from the knowledge or criticism of outsiders.
+It hurt him, as a sacrilege, to hear a daughter
+speak thus of her mother; yet he knew well,
+from facts which were common knowledge,
+how little cause the sweet, lovable woman at
+his side had to consider the tie either a sacred
+or a tender one. He had come to help, not
+to find fault. Also, the minute-hand was
+hastening towards the hour; and the final
+instructions of the kind-hearted old Duchess
+of Meldrum, as she parted from him at the
+War Office, had been: &#8220;Remember! Six
+o&#8217;clock from London. I shall <i>insist</i> upon its
+being kept back until then. If they make
+difficulties, I shall camp in the entrance and
+&#8216;hold up&#8217; every messenger who attempts to
+pass out. But I am accustomed to have my
+own way with these good people. I should
+not hesitate to ring up Buckingham Palace,
+if necessary, as they very well know! So
+you may rest assured it will not leave London
+until six o&#8217;clock. It gives you ample time.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Therefore the doctor said: &#8220;I understand.
+It does not come within my own experience;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span>
+yet I think I understand. But tell me,
+Lady Ingleby. If bad news were to come,
+would you sooner receive it direct from the
+War Office, in the terribly crude wording
+which cannot be avoided in those telegrams;
+or would you rather that a friend&mdash;other than
+your mother&mdash;broke it to you, more gently?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Myra&#8217;s eyes flashed. She sat up with
+instant animation.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I would receive it direct,&#8221; she said.
+&#8220;It would be far less hard, if it were official.
+I should hear the roll of the drums, and see
+the wave of the flag. For England, and for
+Honour! A soldier&#8217;s daughter, and a soldier&#8217;s
+wife, should be able to stand up to anything.
+If they had to tell me Michael was in great
+danger, I should share his danger in receiving
+the news without flinching. If he were
+wounded, as I read the telegram I should
+receive a wound myself, and try to be as brave
+as he. All which came direct from the war,
+would unite me to Michael. But interfering
+friends, however well-meaning, would come
+between. If <i>he</i> had not been shielded from
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span>
+a bullet or a sword-thrust, why should <i>I</i> be
+shielded from the knowledge of his wound?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor screened his face with his hand,</p>
+<p>&#8220;I see,&#8221; he said.</p>
+<p>The clock struck six.</p>
+<p>&#8220;But that was not the only reason I left
+town,&#8221; continued Lady Ingleby, with evident
+effort. Then she flung out both hands towards
+him. &#8220;Oh, doctor! I wonder if I might tell
+you a thing which has been a burden on my
+heart and life for years!&#8221;</p>
+<p>There followed a tense moment of silence;
+but the doctor was used to such moments, and
+could usually determine during the silence,
+whether the confidence should be allowed or
+avoided. He turned and looked steadily at
+the lovely wistful face.</p>
+<p>It was the face of an exceedingly beautiful
+woman, nearing thirty. But the lovely eyes
+still held the clear candour of the eyes of a
+little child, the sweet lips quivered with
+quickly felt emotion, the low brow showed
+no trace of shame or sin. The doctor knew
+he was in the presence of one of the most
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span>
+popular hostesses, one of the most admired
+women, in the kingdom. Yet his keen professional
+insight revealed to him an arrested
+development; possibilities unfulfilled; a problem
+of inadequacy and consequent disappointment,
+to which he had not the key.
+But those outstretched hands eagerly held it
+towards him. Could he bring help, if he
+accepted a knowledge of the solution; or&mdash;did
+help come too late?</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dear Lady Ingleby,&#8221; he said, quietly;
+&#8220;tell me anything you like; that is to say,
+anything which you feel assured Lord Ingleby
+would allow discussed with a third person.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Myra leaned back among the cushions and
+laughed&mdash;a gay little laugh, half of amusement,
+half of relief.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Michael would not mind!&#8221; she said.
+&#8220;Anything Michael would mind, I have
+always told straight to himself; and they were
+silly little things; such as foolish people trying
+to make love to me; or a foreign prince, with
+moustaches like the German Emperor&#8217;s, offering
+to shoot Michael, if I would promise to marry
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span>
+him when his period of consequent imprisonment
+was over. I cut the idiots who had
+presumed to make love to me, ever after; and
+assured the foreign prince, I should undoubtedly
+kill him myself, if he hurt a hair of
+Michael&#8217;s head! No, dear doctor. My life
+is clear of all that sort of complication. My
+trouble is a harder one, involving one&#8217;s whole
+life-problem. And that problem is incompetence
+and inadequacy&mdash;not towards the world,
+I should not care a rap for that; but towards
+the one to whom I owe most: towards Michael,&mdash;my
+husband.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor moved uneasily in his chair, and
+glanced at the clock.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, hush!&#8221; he said. &#8220;Do not&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No!&#8221; cried Myra. &#8220;You must not stop
+me. Let me at last have the relief of speech!
+My friend, I am twenty-eight; I have had ten
+years of married life; yet I do not believe I
+have ever really grown up! In heart and
+brain I am an undeveloped child, and I know
+it; and, worse still, Michael knows it, and&mdash;<i>Michael
+does not mind</i>. Listen! It dates back
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span>
+to years ago. Mamma never allowed any of
+her daughters to grow up. We were permitted
+no individuality of our own, no opinions, no
+independence. All that was required of us,
+was to &#8216;do her behests, and follow in her
+train.&#8217; Forgive the misquotation. We were
+always children in mamma&#8217;s eyes. We grew
+tall; we grew good-looking; but we never
+grew up. We remained children, to be
+snubbed, domineered over, and bullied. My
+sisters, who were good children, had plenty
+of jam and cake; and, eventually, husbands
+after mamma&#8217;s own heart were found for
+them. Perhaps you know how those marriages
+have turned out?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby paused, and the doctor made
+an almost imperceptible sign of assent. One
+of the ladies in question, a most unhappy
+woman, was under treatment in his Mental
+Sanatorium at that very moment; but he
+doubted whether Lady Ingleby knew it.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I was the black sheep,&#8221; continued Myra,
+finding no remark forthcoming. &#8220;Nothing I
+did was ever right; everything I did was always
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span>
+wrong. When Michael met me I was nearly
+eighteen, the height I am now, but in the
+nursery, as regards mental development or
+knowledge of the world; and, as regards
+character, a most unhappy, utterly reckless,
+little child. Michael&#8217;s love, when at last I
+realised it, was wonderful to me. Tenderness,
+appreciation, consideration, were experiences
+so novel that they would have turned my
+head, had not the elation they produced been
+counterbalanced by a gratitude which was
+overwhelming; and a terror of being handed
+back to mamma, which would have made me
+agree to anything. Years later, Michael told
+me that what first attracted him to me was
+a look in my eyes just like the look in those of
+a favourite spaniel of his, who was always in
+trouble with everyone else, and had just been
+accidentally shot, by a keeper. Michael told
+me this himself; and really thought I should
+be pleased! Somehow it gave me the key to
+my standing with him&mdash;just that of a very
+tenderly-loved pet dog. No words can say
+how good he has always been to me. If I
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span>
+lost him, I should lose my all&mdash;everything
+which makes home, home; and life a safe, and
+certain, thing. But if <i>he</i> lost little Peter, it
+would be a more real loss to him than if
+he lost me; because Peter is more intelligent
+for his size, and really more of an actual
+companion to Michael, than I am. Many
+a time, when he has passed through my room
+on the way to his, with Peter tucked securely
+under his arm; and saying, &#8216;Good-night, my
+dear,&#8217; to me, has gone in and shut the door,
+I have felt I could slay little Peter, because he
+had the better place, and because he looked at
+me through his curls, as he was carried away,
+as if to say: &#8216;<i>You</i> are out of it!&#8217; Yet I knew
+I had all I deserved; and Michael&#8217;s kindness
+and goodness and patience were beyond
+words. Only&mdash;only&mdash;ah, <i>can</i> you understand?
+I would sooner he had found fault
+and scolded; I would sooner have been shaken
+and called a fool, than smiled at, and left
+alone. I was in the nursery when he married
+me; I have been in the school-room ever since,
+trying to learn life&#8217;s lessons, alone, without a
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span>
+teacher. Nothing has helped me to grow up.
+Michael has always told me I am perfect, and
+everything I do is perfect, and he does not
+want me different. But I have never really
+shared his life and interests. If I make
+idiotic mistakes he does not correct me.
+I have to find them out, when I repeat them
+before others. When I made that silly
+blunder about the brazen serpent, you so
+kindly put me right. Michael would have
+smiled and let it pass as not worth correcting;
+then I should have repeated it before a roomful
+of people, and wondered why they looked
+amused! Ah, but what do I care for people, or
+the world! It is my true place beside Michael
+I want to win. I want to &#8216;grow up unto him
+in all things.&#8217; Yes, I know that is a text. I
+am famous for misquotations, or rather, misapplications.
+But it expresses my meaning&mdash;as
+the duchess remarks, when <i>she</i> has said
+something mild under provocation, and her
+parrot swears!&mdash;And now tell me, dear wise
+kind doctor; you, who have been the lifelong
+friend of that grand creature, Jane Dalmain;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span>
+you, who have done so much for dozens of
+women I know; tell me how I can cease to be
+inadequate towards my husband.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The passionate flow of words ceased suddenly.
+Lady Ingleby leaned back against the
+cushions.</p>
+<p>Peter sighed in his sleep.</p>
+<p>A clock in the hall chimed the quarter
+after six.</p>
+<p>The doctor looked steadily into the fire.
+He seemed to find speech difficult.</p>
+<p>At last he said, in a voice which shook
+slightly: &#8220;Dear Lady Ingleby, he did not&mdash;he
+does not&mdash;think you so.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, no!&#8221; she cried, sitting forward again.
+&#8220;He thinks of me nothing but what is kind and
+right. But he never expected me to be more
+than a nice, affectionate, good-looking dog;
+and I&mdash;I have not known how to be better
+than his expectations. But, although he is
+so patient, he sometimes grows unutterably
+tired of being with me. All other pet creatures
+are dumb; but I love talking, and I constantly
+say silly things, which do not <i>sound</i> silly, until
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span>
+I have said them. He goes off to Norway,
+fishing; to the Engadine, mountain-climbing;
+to this horrid war, risking his precious life.
+Anywhere to get away alone; anywhere
+to&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hush,&#8221; said the doctor, and laid a firm
+brown hand, for a moment, on the white
+fluttering fingers. &#8220;You are overwrought by
+the suspense of these past weeks. You know
+perfectly well that Lord Ingleby volunteered
+for this border war because he was so keen on
+experimenting with his new explosives, and on
+trying these ideas for using electricity in
+modern warfare, at which he has worked so
+long.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes, I know,&#8221; said Myra, smiling wistfully.
+&#8220;Tiresome things, which keep him
+hours in his laboratory. And he has some
+very clever plan for long distance signalling
+from fort to fort&mdash;hieroglyphics in the sky,
+isn&#8217;t it? you know what I mean. But the
+fact that he volunteered into all this danger,
+merely to do experimenting, makes it harder
+to bear than if he had been at the head of his
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span>
+old regiment, and gone at the imperative call
+of duty. However&mdash;nothing matters so long
+as he comes home safely. And now you&mdash;you,
+Sir Deryck&mdash;must help me to become a real
+helpmeet to Michael. Tell me how you
+helped&mdash;oh, very well, we will not mention
+names. But give me wise advice. Give me
+hope; give me courage. Make me strong.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor looked at the clock; and, even
+as he looked, the chimes in the hall rang out
+the half-hour.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You have not yet told me,&#8221; he said,
+speaking very slowly, as if listening for some
+other sound; &#8220;you have not yet told me, your
+second reason for leaving town.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah,&#8221; said Lady Ingleby, and her voice
+held a deeper, older, tone&mdash;a note bordering
+on tragedy. &#8220;Ah! I left town, Sir Deryck,
+because other people were teaching me love-lessons,
+and I did not want to learn them
+apart from Michael. I stayed with Jane
+Dalmain and her blind husband, before they
+went back to Gleneesh. You remember?
+They were in town for the production of his
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span>
+symphony. I saw that ideal wedded life,
+and I realised something of what a perfect
+mating of souls could mean. And then&mdash;well,
+there were others; people who did not
+understand how wholly I am Michael&#8217;s;
+nothing actually wrong; but not so fresh and
+youthful as Billy&#8217;s innocent adoration; and I
+feared I should accidentally learn what only
+Michael must teach. Therefore I fled away!
+Oh, doctor; if I ever learned from another
+man, that which I have failed to learn from
+my own husband, I should lie at Michael&#8217;s
+feet and implore him to kill me!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor looked up at the portrait over
+the mantelpiece. The calm passionless face
+smiled blandly at the tiny dog. One sensitive
+hand, white and delicate as a woman&#8217;s, was
+raised, forefinger uplifted, gently holding the
+attention of the little animal&#8217;s eager eyes.
+The magic skill of the artist supplied the
+doctor with the key to the problem. A
+<i>woman</i>&mdash;as mate, as wife, as part of himself,
+was not a necessity in the life of this thinker,
+inventor, scholar, saint. He could appreciate
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span>
+dumb devotion; he was capable of unlimited
+kindness, leniency, patience, toleration. But
+woman and dog alike, remained outside the
+citadel of his inner self. Had not her eyes resembled
+those of a favourite spaniel, he would
+very probably not have wedded the lovely
+woman who, now, during ten years had borne
+his name; and even then he might not have
+done so, had not the tyranny of her mother,
+awakening his instinct of protection towards
+the weak and oppressed, aroused in him a
+determination to withstand that tyranny, and
+to carry her off triumphantly to freedom.</p>
+<p>The longer the doctor looked, the more
+persistently the picture said; &#8220;We two; and
+where does <i>she</i> come in?&#8221;&mdash;Righteous wrath
+arose in the heart of Deryck Brand; for his
+ideal as to man&#8217;s worship of woman was a
+high one. As he thought of the closed door;
+of the lonely wife, humbly jealous of a toy-poodle,
+yet blaming herself only, for her loneliness,
+his jaw set, and his brow darkened.
+And all the while he listened for a sound from
+the outer world which must soon come.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span></p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby noticed his intent gaze, and,
+leaning forward, also looked up at the picture.
+The firelight shone on her lovely face, and on
+the gleaming softness of her hair. Her lips
+parted in a tender smile; a pure radiance shone
+from her eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, he <i>is</i> so good!&#8221; she said. &#8220;In all the
+years, he has never once spoken harshly to
+me. And see how lovingly he looks at Peter,
+who really is a most unattractive little dog.
+Did you ever hear the duchess&#8217;s <i>bon mot</i>
+about Michael? He and I once stayed together
+at Overdene; but she did not ask us
+again until he was abroad, fishing in Norway;
+so of course I went by myself. The duchess
+always does those things frankly, and explains
+them. Therefore on this occasion she said:
+&#8216;My dear, I enjoy a visit from you; but you
+must only come, when you can come alone.
+I will never undertake again, to live up to
+your good Michael. It really was a case of
+St. Michael and All Angels. <i>He</i> was
+St. Michael, and <i>we</i> had to be all angels!&#8217;
+Wasn&#8217;t it like the duchess; and a beautiful
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span>
+testimony to Michael&#8217;s consistent goodness?
+Oh, I wish you knew him better. And, for
+the matter of that, I wish I knew him better!
+But after all I <i>am</i> his wife. Nothing can rob
+me of that. And don&#8217;t you think&mdash;when
+Michael comes home this time&mdash;somehow, all
+will be different; better than ever before?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The hall clock chimed three-quarters after
+the hour.</p>
+<p>The clang of a bell resounded through the
+silent house.</p>
+<p>Peter sat up, and barked once, sharply.</p>
+<p>The doctor rose and stood with his back to
+the fire, facing the door.</p>
+<p>Myra&#8217;s question remained unanswered.</p>
+<p>Hurried steps approached.</p>
+<p>A footman entered, with a telegram for
+Lady Ingleby.</p>
+<p>She took it with calm fingers, and without
+the usual sinking of the heart from sudden
+apprehension. Her mind was full of the
+conversation of the moment, and the doctor&#8217;s
+presence made her feel so strong and safe; so
+sure of no approach of evil tidings.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span></p>
+<p>She did not hear Sir Deryck&#8217;s quiet voice
+say to the man: &#8220;You need not wait.&#8221;</p>
+<p>As the door closed, the doctor turned away,
+and stood looking into the fire.</p>
+<p>The room was very still.</p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby opened her telegram, unfolded
+it slowly, and read it through twice.</p>
+<p>Afterwards she sat on, in such absolute
+silence that, at length, the doctor turned and
+looked at her.</p>
+<p>She met his eyes, quietly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Sir Deryck,&#8221; she said, &#8220;it is from the War
+Office. They tell me Michael has been killed.
+Do you think it is true?&#8221;</p>
+<p>She handed him the telegram. Taking it
+from her, he read it in silence. Then: &#8220;Dear
+Lady Ingleby,&#8221; he said, very gently, &#8220;I fear
+there is no doubt. He has given his life for
+his country. You will be as brave in giving
+him, as he would wish his wife to be.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Myra smiled; but the doctor saw her face
+slowly whiten.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&#8221; she said; &#8220;oh, yes! I will not fail
+him. I will be adequate&mdash;at last.&#8221; Then, as
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span>
+if a sudden thought had struck her: &#8220;Did you
+know of this? Is it why you came?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&#8221; said the doctor, slowly. &#8220;The
+duchess sent me. She was at the War Office
+this morning when the news came in, inquiring
+for Ronald Ingram, who has been wounded,
+and is down with fever. She telephoned for
+me, and insisted on the telegram being kept
+back until six o&#8217;clock this evening, in order to
+give me time to get here, and to break the
+news to you first, if it seemed well.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Myra gazed at him, wide-eyed. &#8220;And you let
+me say all that, about Michael and myself?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dear lady,&#8221; said the doctor, and few
+had ever heard that deep firm voice, so nearly
+tremulous, &#8220;I could not stop you. But you
+did not say one word which was not absolutely
+loving and loyal.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;How could I have?&#8221; queried Myra, her
+face growing whiter, and her eyes wider and
+more bright. &#8220;I have never had a thought
+which was not loyal and loving.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I know,&#8221; said the doctor. &#8220;Poor brave
+heart,&mdash;I know.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span></p>
+<p>Myra took up the telegram, and read it
+again.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Killed,&#8221; she said; &#8220;<i>killed</i>. I wish I knew
+how.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The duchess is ready to come to you
+immediately, if you would like to have her,&#8221;
+suggested the doctor.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No,&#8221; said Myra, smiling vaguely. &#8220;No;
+I think not. Not unless dear mamma comes.
+If that happens we must wire for the duchess,
+because now&mdash;now Michael is away&mdash;she is
+the only person who can cope with mamma.
+But please not, otherwise; because&mdash;well,
+you see,&mdash;she said she could not live up to
+Michael; and it does not sound funny now.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is there anybody you would wish sent for
+at once?&#8221; inquired the doctor, wondering
+how much larger and brighter those big grey
+eyes could grow; and whether any living face
+had ever been so absolutely colourless.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Anybody I should wish sent for at once?
+I don&#8217;t know. Oh, yes&mdash;there is one person;
+if she could come. Jane&mdash;you know? Jane
+Dalmain. I always say she is like the bass of
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span>
+a tune; so solid, and satisfactory, and beneath
+one. Nothing very bad could happen, if
+Jane were there. But of course this <i>has</i>
+happened; hasn&#8217;t it?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor sat down.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I wired to Gleneesh this morning,&#8221; he
+said. &#8220;Jane will be here early to-morrow.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then lots of people knew before I did?&#8221;
+said Lady Ingleby.</p>
+<p>The doctor did not answer.</p>
+<p>She rose, and stood looking down into the
+fire; her tall graceful figure drawn up to its
+full height, her back to the doctor, whose
+watchful eyes never left her for an instant.</p>
+<p>Suddenly she looked across to Lord Ingleby&#8217;s
+chair.</p>
+<p>&#8220;And I believe <i>Peter</i> knew,&#8221; she said, in a
+loud, high-pitched voice. &#8220;Good heavens!
+Peter knew; and refused his food because
+Michael was dead. And <i>I</i> said he had
+dyspepsia! Michael, oh Michael! Your wife
+didn&#8217;t know you were dead; but your dog
+knew! Oh Michael, Michael! Little Peter
+knew!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span></p>
+<p>She lifted her arms toward the picture of
+the big man and the tiny dog.</p>
+<p>Then she swayed backward.</p>
+<p>The doctor caught her, as she fell.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='IV_IN_SAFE_HANDS' id='IV_IN_SAFE_HANDS'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+<h3>IN SAFE HANDS</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>All through the night Lady Ingleby lay
+gazing before her, with bright unseeing
+eyes.</p>
+<p>The quiet woman from the Lodge, who had
+been, before her own marriage, a devoted
+maid-companion to Lady Ingleby, arrived in
+speechless sorrow, and helped the doctor
+tenderly with all there was to do.</p>
+<p>But when consciousness returned, and
+realisation, they were accompanied by no
+natural expressions of grief; simply a settled
+stony silence; the white set face; the bright
+unseeing eyes.</p>
+<p>Margaret O&#8217;Mara knelt, and wept, and
+prayed, kissing the folded hands upon the
+silken quilt. But Lady Ingleby merely smiled
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span>
+vaguely; and once she said: &#8220;Hush, my dear
+Maggie. At last we will be adequate.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Several times during the night the doctor
+came, sitting silently beside the bed, with
+watchful eyes and quiet touch. Myra scarcely
+noticed him, and again he wondered how
+much larger the big grey eyes would grow, in
+the pale setting of that lovely face.</p>
+<p>Once he signed to the other watcher to
+follow him into the corridor. Closing the
+door, he turned and faced her. He liked this
+quiet woman, in her simple black merino
+gown, linen collar and cuffs, and neatly
+braided hair. There was an air of refinement
+and gentle self-control about her, which
+pleased the doctor.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mrs. O&#8217;Mara,&#8221; he said; &#8220;she must weep,
+and she must sleep.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;She does not weep easily, sir,&#8221; replied
+Margaret O&#8217;Mara, &#8220;and I have known her
+to lie widely awake throughout an entire
+night with less cause for sorrow than this.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah,&#8221; said the doctor; and he looked
+keenly at the woman from the Lodge. &#8220;I
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span>
+wonder what else you have known?&#8221; he
+thought. But he did not voice the conjecture.
+Deryck Brand rarely asked questions of a
+third person. His patients never had to find
+out that his knowledge of them came through
+the gossip or the breach of confidence of
+others.</p>
+<p>At last he could allow that fixed unseeing
+gaze no longer. He decided to do what
+was necessary, with a quiet nod, in response
+to Margaret O&#8217;Mara&#8217;s imploring look. He
+turned back the loose sleeve of the silk nightdress,
+one firm hand grasped the soft arm beneath
+it; the other passed over it for a moment
+with swift skilful pressure. Even Margaret&#8217;s
+anxious eyes saw nothing more; and afterwards
+Myra often wondered what could have
+caused that tiny scar upon the whiteness of
+her arm.</p>
+<p>Before long she was quietly asleep. The
+doctor stood looking down upon her. There
+was tragedy to him in this perfect loveliness.
+Now the clear candour of the grey eyes was
+veiled, the childlike look was no longer there.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span>
+It was the face of a woman&mdash;and of a woman
+who had lived, and who had suffered.</p>
+<p>Watching it, the doctor reviewed the history
+of those ten years of wedded life; piecing together
+that which she herself had told him;
+his own shrewd surmisings; and facts, which
+were common knowledge.</p>
+<p>So much for the past. The present, for a
+few hours at least, was merciful oblivion.
+What would the future bring? She had
+bravely and faithfully put from her all temptation
+to learn the glory of life, and the completeness
+of love, from any save from her own
+husband. And he had failed to teach. Can
+the deaf teach harmony, or the blind reveal
+the beauties of blended colour?</p>
+<p>But the future held no such limitations.
+The &#8220;garden enclosed&#8221; was no longer barred
+against all others by an owner who ignored
+its fragrance. The gate would be on the
+latch, though all unconscious until an eager
+hand pressed it, that its bolts and bars were
+gone, and it dare swing open wide.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah,&#8221; mused the doctor. &#8220;Will the right
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span>
+man pass by? Youth teaches youth; but is
+there a man amongst us strong enough, and
+true enough, and pure enough, to teach this
+woman, nearing thirty, lessons which should
+have been learned during the golden days of
+girlhood. Surely somewhere on this earth
+the One Man walks, and works, and waits,
+to whom she is to be the One Woman? God
+send him her way, in the fulness of time.&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>And in that very hour&mdash;while at last Myra
+slept, and the doctor watched, and mused,
+and wondered&mdash;in that very hour, under an
+Eastern sky, a strong man, sick of life, worn
+and disillusioned, fighting a deadly fever, in
+the sultry atmosphere of a soldier&#8217;s tent,
+cried out in bitterness of soul: &#8220;O God, let
+me die!&#8221; Then added the &#8220;never-the-less&#8221;
+which always qualifies a brave soul&#8217;s prayer
+for immunity from pain: &#8220;Unless&mdash;unless, O
+God, there be still some work left on this earth
+which only I can do.&#8221;</p>
+<p>And the doctor had just said: &#8220;Send him
+her way, O God, in the fulness of time.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span></p>
+<p>The two prayers reached the Throne of
+Omniscience together.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>Deryck Brand, looking up, saw the quiet
+eyes of Margaret O&#8217;Mara gazing gratefully
+at him, across the bed. &#8220;Thank you,&#8221; she
+whispered.</p>
+<p>He smiled. &#8220;Never to be done lightly, Mrs.
+O&#8217;Mara,&#8221; he said. &#8220;Everything else should
+be tried first. But there are exceptions to the
+strictest rules, and it is fatal weakness to
+hesitate when confronted by the exception.
+Send for me, when she wakes; and, meanwhile,
+lie down on that couch yourself and have
+some sleep. You are worn out.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor turned away; but not before he
+had caught the sudden look of dumb anguish
+which leaped into those quiet eyes. He
+reached the door; paused a moment; then
+came back.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mrs. O&#8217;Mara,&#8221; he said, with a hand upon
+her shoulder, &#8220;you have a sorrow of your
+own?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span></p>
+<p>She drew away from him, in terror. &#8220;Oh,
+hush!&#8221; she whispered. &#8220;Don&#8217;t ask! Don&#8217;t
+unnerve me, sir. Help me to think of her,
+only.&#8221; Then, more calmly: &#8220;But of course I
+shall think of none but her, while she needs
+me. Only&mdash;only, sir&mdash;as you are so kind&mdash;&#8221;
+she drew from her bosom a crumpled telegram,
+and handed it to the doctor. &#8220;Mine came
+at the same time as hers,&#8221; she said, simply.</p>
+<p>The doctor unfolded the War Office message.</p>
+<div class='blockquot'>
+<p>Regret to report Sergeant O&#8217;Mara killed in
+assault on Targai yesterday.</p>
+</div>
+<p>&#8220;He was a good husband,&#8221; said Margaret
+O&#8217;Mara, simply; &#8220;and we were very happy.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor held out his hand. &#8220;I am
+proud to have met you, Mrs. O&#8217;Mara.
+This seems to me the bravest thing I have
+ever known a woman do.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She smiled through her tears. &#8220;Thank
+you, sir,&#8221; she said, tremulously. &#8220;But it is
+easier to bear my own sorrow, when I have
+work to do for her.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;God Himself comfort you, my friend,&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span>
+said Deryck Brand, and it was all he could
+trust his voice to say; nor was he ashamed
+that he had to fumble blindly for the handle
+of the door.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>The doctor had finished breakfast, and was
+asking Groatley for a time-table, when word
+reached him that Lady Ingleby was awake.
+He went upstairs immediately.</p>
+<p>Myra was sitting up in bed, propped with
+pillows. Her cheeks were flushed; her eyes
+bright and hard.</p>
+<p>She held out her hand to the doctor.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How good you have been,&#8221; she said,
+speaking very fast, in a high unnatural voice:
+&#8220;I am afraid I have given you a great deal of
+trouble. I don&#8217;t remember much about last
+night, excepting that they said Michael had
+been killed. Has Michael really been killed,
+do you think? And will they give me details?
+Surely I have a right to know details. Nothing
+can alter the fact that I was Michael&#8217;s
+wife, can it? Do go to breakfast, Maggie.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span>
+There is nothing gained by standing there,
+smiling, and saying you do not want any
+breakfast. Everybody wants breakfast at
+nine o&#8217;clock in the morning. I should want
+breakfast, if Michael had not been killed.
+Tell her she ought to have breakfast, Sir
+Deryck. I believe she has been up all night.
+It is such a comfort to have her. She is so
+brave and bright; and so full of sympathy.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;She is very brave,&#8221; said the doctor;
+&#8220;and you are right as to her need of breakfast.
+Go down-stairs for a little while, Mrs. O&#8217;Mara.
+I will stay with Lady Ingleby.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She moved obediently to the door; but Sir
+Deryck reached it before her. And the
+famous London specialist held the door open
+for the sergeant&#8217;s young widow, with an air
+of deference such as he would hardly have
+bestowed upon a queen.</p>
+<p>Then he came back to Lady Ingleby. His
+train left in three-quarters of an hour. But his
+task here was not finished. She had slept;
+but before he dare leave her, she must weep.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Where is Peter?&#8221; inquired the excited
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span>
+voice from the bed. &#8220;He always barks to be
+let out, in the morning; but I have heard
+nothing of him yet.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He was exhausted last night, poor little
+chap,&#8221; said the doctor. &#8220;He could scarcely
+walk. I carried him up, myself; and put him
+on the bed in the next room. The coat was
+still there, I wrapped him in it. He licked
+my hand, and lay down, content.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I want to see him,&#8221; said Lady Ingleby.
+&#8220;Michael loved him. He seems all I have
+left of Michael.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I will fetch him,&#8221; said the doctor.</p>
+<p>He went into the adjoining room, leaving
+the door ajar. Myra heard him reach the
+bed. Then followed a long silence.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What is it?&#8221; she called at last. &#8220;Is he
+not there? Why are you so long?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Then the doctor came back. He carried
+something in his arms, wrapped in the old
+shooting jacket.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dear Lady Ingleby,&#8221; he said, &#8220;little Peter
+is dead. He must have died during the night,
+in his sleep. He was lying just as I left him,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span>
+curled up in the coat; but he is quite cold and
+stiff. Faithful little heart!&#8221; said the doctor,
+with emotion, holding his burden, tenderly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What!&#8221; cried Myra, with both arms outstretched.
+&#8220;Peter has died, because Michael
+is dead; and I&mdash;I have not even shed a tear!&#8221;
+She fell back among the pillows in a paroxysm
+of weeping.</p>
+<p>The doctor stood by, silently; uncertain
+what to do. Myra&#8217;s sobs grew more violent,
+shaking the bed with their convulsive force.
+Then she began to shriek inarticulately about
+Michael and Peter, and to sob again, with
+renewed violence.</p>
+<p>At that moment the doctor heard the horn
+of a motor-car in the avenue; then, almost
+immediately, the clang of the bell, and the
+sounds of an arrival below. A look of immense
+relief came into his face. He went
+to the top of the great staircase, and looked
+over.</p>
+<p>The Honourable Mrs. Dalmain had arrived.
+The doctor saw her tall figure, in a dark green
+travelling coat, walk rapidly across the hall.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Jane!&#8221; he said. &#8220;Jeanette! Ah, I knew
+you would not fail us! Come straight up.
+You have arrived at the right moment.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Jane looked up, and saw the doctor standing
+at the top of the stairs; something wrapped
+in an old coat, held carefully in his arms. She
+threw him one smile of greeting and assurance;
+then, wasting no time in words, rapidly
+pulled off her coat, hat, and fur gloves, flinging
+them in quick succession to the astonished
+butler. The doctor only waited to see her
+actually mounting the stairs. Then, passing
+through Lady Ingleby&#8217;s room, he laid Peter&#8217;s
+little body back on his dead master&#8217;s bed,
+still wrapped in the old tweed coat.</p>
+<p>As he stepped back into Lady Ingleby&#8217;s
+room, closing the door between, he saw Jane
+Dalmain kneel down beside the bed, and
+gather the weeping form into her arms, with
+a gesture of immense protective tenderness.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh Jane,&#8221; sobbed Lady Ingleby, as she
+hid her face in the sweet comfort of that
+generous bosom; &#8220;Oh Jane! Michael has been
+killed! And little Peter died, because Michael
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span>
+was dead. Little Peter <i>died</i>, and <i>I</i> had not
+even shed a tear!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor passed quickly out, closing the
+door behind him. He did not wait to hear
+the answer. He knew it would be wise, and
+kind, and right. He left his patient in safe
+hands. Jane was there, at last. All would
+be well.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='V_LADY_INGLEBY_S_RESTCURE' id='V_LADY_INGLEBY_S_RESTCURE'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER V</h2>
+<h3>LADY INGLEBY&#8217;S REST-CURE</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>From the moment when the express for
+Cornwall had slowly but irrevocably
+commenced to glide away from the Paddington
+platform; when she had looked her last upon
+Margaret O&#8217;Mara&#8217;s anxious devoted face,
+softly framed in her simple widow&#8217;s bonnet;
+when she had realised that her somewhat
+original rest-cure had really safely commenced,
+and that she was leaving, not only her worries,
+but her very identity behind her&mdash;Lady Ingleby
+had leaned back with closed eyes in a corner
+of her reserved compartment, and given herself
+up to quiet retrospection.</p>
+<p>The face, in repose, was sad&mdash;a quiet sadness,
+as of regret which held no bitterness.
+The cheek, upon which the dark fringe of
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span>
+lashes rested, was white and thin having lost
+the tint and contour of perfect health. But,
+every now and then, during those hours of
+retrospection, the wistful droop of the sweet
+expressive mouth curved into a smile, and a
+dimple peeped out unexpectedly, giving a
+look of youthfulness to the tired face.</p>
+<p>When London and, its suburbs were completely
+left behind, and the summer sunshine
+blazed through the window from the clear
+blue of a radiant June sky, Lady Ingleby
+leaned forward, watching the rapid unfolding
+of country lanes and hedges; wide commons,
+golden with gorse; fir woods, carpeted with
+blue-bells; mossy banks, overhung with wild
+roses, honeysuckle, and traveller&#8217;s-joy; the
+indescribable greenness and soft fragrance of
+England in early summer; and, as she watched,
+a responsive light shone in her sweet grey eyes.
+The drear sadness of autumn, the deadness of
+winter, the chill uncertainty of spring&mdash;all
+these were over and gone. &#8220;Flowers appear
+on the earth; the time of the singing of birds
+is come,&#8221; murmurs the lover of Canticles; and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span>
+in Myra Ingleby&#8217;s sad heart there blossomed
+timidly, flowers of hope; vague promise of
+future joy, which life might yet hold in store.
+A blackbird in the hawthorn, trilled gaily; and
+Myra softly sang, to an air of Garth Dalmain&#8217;s,
+the &#8220;Blackbird&#8217;s Song.&#8221;</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>&#8220;Wake, wake,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Sad heart!</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Rise up, and sing!</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>On God&#8217;s fair earth, &#8217;mid blossoms blue.</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Fresh hope must ever spring.</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>There is no room for sad despair,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>When heaven&#8217;s love is everywhere.&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>Then, as the train sped onward through
+Wiltshire, Somerset, and Devon, Lady Ingleby
+felt the mantle of her despondence slipping
+from her, and reviewed the past, much as a
+prisoner might glance back into his dark
+narrow cell, from the sunlight of the open door,
+as he stood at last on the threshold of liberty.</p>
+<p>Seven months had gone by since, on that
+chill November evening, the news of Lord
+Ingleby&#8217;s death had reached Shenstone. The
+happenings of the weeks which followed, now
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span>
+seemed vague and dreamlike to Myra, just
+a few events standing out clearly from the
+dim blur of misery. She remembered the
+reliable strength of the doctor; the unselfish
+devotion of Margaret O&#8217;Mara; the unspeakable
+comfort of Jane&#8217;s wholesome understanding
+tenderness. Then the dreaded arrival of her
+mother; followed, immediately, according to
+promise, by the protective advent of Georgina,
+Duchess of Meldrum; after which, tragedy and
+comedy walked hand in hand; and the silence
+of mourning was enlivened by the &#8220;Hoity-toity!&#8221;
+of the duchess, and the indignant
+sniffs of Mrs. Coller-Cray.</p>
+<p>Later on, details of Lord Ingleby&#8217;s death
+came to hand, and his widow had to learn that
+he had fallen&mdash;at the attempt upon Targai,
+it is true&mdash;but the victim of an accident;
+losing his life, not at the hands of the savage
+enemy, but through the unfortunate blunder
+of a comrade. Myra never very clearly
+grasped the details:&mdash;a wall to be undermined;
+his own patent and fearful explosive; the
+grim enthusiasm with which he insisted upon
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span>
+placing it himself, arranging to have it fired
+by his patent electrical plan. Then the mistaking
+of a signal; the fatal pressing of a button
+five minutes too soon; an electric flash
+in the mine, a terrific explosion, and instant
+death to the man whose skill and courage had
+made the gap through which crowds of cheering
+British soldiers, bursting from the silent
+darkness, dashed to expectant victory.</p>
+<p>When full details reached the War Office,
+a Very Great Personage called at her house in
+Park Lane personally to explain to Lady
+Ingleby the necessity for the hushing up of
+some of these greatly-to-be-deplored facts.
+The whole unfortunate occurrence had largely
+partaken of the nature of an experiment.
+The explosive, the new method of signalling,
+the portable electric plant&mdash;all these were
+being used by Lord Ingleby and the young
+officers who assisted him, more or less
+experimentally and unofficially. The man
+whose unfortunate mistake caused the accident
+had an important career before him.
+His name must not be allowed to transpire.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span>
+It would be unfair that a future of great
+promise should be blighted by what was an
+obvious accident. The few to whom the
+name was known had been immediately
+pledged to secrecy. Of course it would be
+confidentially given to Lady Ingleby if she
+really desired to hear it, but&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+<p>Then Myra took a very characteristic line.
+She sat up with instant decision; her pale face
+flushed, and her large pathetic grey eyes shone
+with sudden brightness.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Pardon me, sir,&#8221; she said, &#8220;for interposing;
+but I never wish to know that name. My
+husband would have been the first to desire
+that it should not be told. And, personally,
+I should be sorry that there should be any
+man on earth whose hand I could not bring
+myself to touch in friendship. The hand that
+widowed me, did so without intention. Let
+it remain always to me an abstract instrument
+of the will of Providence. I shall never even
+try to guess to which of Michael&#8217;s comrades
+that hand belonged.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby was honest in making this
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span>
+decision; and the Very Great Personage
+stepped into his brougham, five minutes later,
+greatly relieved, and filled with admiration for
+Lord Ingleby&#8217;s beautiful and right-minded
+widow. She had always been all that was
+most charming. Now she added sound good
+sense, to personal charm. Excellent! Incomparable!
+Poor Ingleby! Poor&mdash;Ah! <i>he</i>
+must not be mentioned, even in thought.</p>
+<p>Yes; Lady Ingleby was absolutely honest
+in coming to her decision. And yet, from
+that moment, two names revolved perpetually
+in her mind, around a ceaseless question&mdash;the
+only men mentioned constantly by Michael
+in his letters as being always with him in his
+experiments, sharing his interests and his dangers:
+Ronald Ingram, and Billy Cathcart&mdash;dear
+boys, both; her devoted adorers; almost her
+dearest, closest friends; faithful, trusted, tried.
+And now the haunting question circled around
+all thought of them: &#8220;Was it Ronald? Or
+was it Billy? Which? Billy or Ronnie?
+Ronnie or Billy?&#8221; Myra had said: &#8220;I shall
+never even try to guess,&#8221; and she had said
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span>
+it honestly. She did not try to guess. She
+guessed, in spite of trying not to do so; and
+the certainty, and yet <i>un</i>certainty of her
+surmisings told on her nerves, becoming a
+cause of mental torment which was with her,
+subconsciously, night and day.</p>
+<p>Time went on. The frontier war was over.
+England, as ever, had been bound to win in the
+end; and England had won. It had merely
+been a case of time; of learning wisdom by a
+series of initial mistakes; of expending a large
+amount of British gold and British blood.
+England&#8217;s supremacy was satisfactorily asserted;
+and, those of her brave troops who had
+survived the initial mistakes, came home;
+among them Ronald Ingram and Billy Cathcart;
+the former obviously older than when he
+went away, gaunt and worn, pale beneath his
+bronze, showing unmistakable signs of the
+effects of a severe wound and subsequent
+fever. &#8220;Too interesting for words,&#8221; said the
+Duchess of Meldrum to Lady Ingleby, recounting
+her first sight of him. &#8220;If only I
+were fifty years younger than I am, I would
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span>
+marry the dear boy immediately, take him
+down to Overdene, and nurse him back to
+health and strength. Oh, you need not look
+incredulous, my dear Myra! I always
+mean what I say, as you very well
+know.&#8221;</p>
+<p>But Lady Ingleby denied all suspicion of
+incredulity, and merely suggested languidly,
+that&mdash;bar the matrimonial suggestion&mdash;the
+programme was an excellent one, and might
+well be carried out. Young Ronald being of
+the same opinion, he was soon installed at
+Overdene, and had what he afterwards described
+as <i>the</i> time of his life, being pampered,
+spoiled, and petted by the dear old duchess,
+and never allowing her to suspect that one of
+the chief attractions of Overdene lay in the
+fact that it was within easy motoring distance
+of Shenstone Park.</p>
+<p>Billy returned as young, as inconsequent, as
+irrepressible as ever. And yet in him also,
+Myra was conscious of a subtle change, for
+which she, all too readily, found a reason, far
+removed from the real one.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span></p>
+<p>The fact was this. Both young men, in
+their romantic devotion to her, had yet been
+true to their own manhood, and loyal, at
+heart, to Lord Ingleby. But their loyalty
+had always been with effort. Therefore, when&mdash;the
+strain relaxed&mdash;they met her again, they
+were intensely conscious of her freedom and
+of their own resultant liberty. This produced
+in them, when with her, a restraint
+and shyness which Myra naturally construed
+into a confirmation of her own suspicions.
+She, having never found it the smallest effort
+to remember she was Michael&#8217;s, and to be
+faithful in every thought to him, was quite
+unconscious of her liberty. There having
+been no strain in remaining true to the instincts
+of her own pure, honest, honourable
+nature, there was no tension to
+relax.</p>
+<p>So it very naturally came to pass that when
+one day Ronald Ingram had sat long with her,
+silently studying his boots, his strong face
+tense and miserable, every now and then
+looking furtively at her, then, as his eyes met
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span>
+the calm friendliness of hers, dropping them
+again to the floor:&mdash;&#8220;Poor Ronnie,&#8221; she
+mused, &#8220;with his &#8216;important career&#8217; before
+him. Undoubtedly it was he who did it.
+And Billy knows it. See how fidgety Billy
+is, while Ronnie sits with me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>But by-and-by it would be: &#8220;No; of course
+it was Billy&mdash;dear hot-headed impulsive young
+Billy; and Ronald, knowing it, feels guilty
+also. Poor little Billy, who was as a son to
+Michael! There was no mistaking the emotion
+in his face just now, when I merely laid my
+hand on his. Oh, impetuous scatter-brained
+boy!... Dear heavens! I wish he wouldn&#8217;t
+hand me the bread-and-butter.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Then, into this atmosphere of misunderstanding
+and uncertainty, intruded a fresh
+element. A first-cousin of Lord Ingleby&#8217;s,
+to whom had come the title, minus the estates,
+came to the conclusion that title and estates
+might as well go together. To that end,
+intruding upon her privacy on every possible
+occasion, he proceeded to pay business-like
+court to Lady Ingleby.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span></p>
+<p>Thus rudely Myra awoke to the understanding
+of her liberty. At once, her whole
+outlook on life was changed. All things bore
+a new significance. Ronnie and Billy ceased
+to be comforts. Ronnie&#8217;s nervous misery
+assumed a new importance; and, coupled
+with her own suspicions, filled her with a dismayed
+horror. The duchess&#8217;s veiled jokes
+took point, and hurt. A sense of unprotected
+loneliness engulfed her. Every man became a
+prospective and dreaded suitor; every woman&#8217;s
+remarks seemed to hold an innuendo. Her
+name in the papers distracted her.</p>
+<p>She recognised the morbidness of her condition,
+even while she felt unable to cope with
+it; and, leaving Shenstone suddenly, came
+up to town, and consulted Sir Deryck Brand.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, my friend,&#8221; she said, &#8220;help me! I
+shall never face life again.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor heard her patiently, aiding the
+recital by his strong understanding silence.</p>
+<p>Then he said, quietly: &#8220;Dear lady, the
+diagnosis is not difficult. Also there is but
+one possible remedy.&#8221; He paused.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span></p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby&#8217;s imploring eyes and tense
+expectancy, besought his verdict.</p>
+<p>&#8220;A rest-cure,&#8221; said the doctor, with finality.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Horrors, no!&#8221; cried Myra; &#8220;Would you
+shut me up within four walls; cram me with
+rice pudding and every form of food I most
+detest; send a dreadful woman to pound,
+roll, and pommel me, and tell me gruesome
+stories; keep out all my friends, all letters, all
+books, all news; and, after six weeks send me
+out into the world again, with my figure gone,
+and not a sane thought upon any subject
+under the sun? Dear doctor, think of it!
+Stout, and an idiot! Oh, give me something
+in a bottle, to shake, and take three times a
+day&mdash;and let me go!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor smiled. He was famed for his
+calm patience.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your somewhat highly coloured description,
+dear Lady Ingleby, applies to a form of
+rest-cure such as I rarely, if ever, recommend.
+In your case it would be worse than useless.
+We should gain nothing by shutting you up
+with the one person who is doing you harm,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span>
+and from whom we must contrive your escape.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The one person&mdash;?&#8221; queried Myra, wide-eyed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;A charming person,&#8221; smiled the doctor,
+&#8220;where the rest of mankind are concerned;
+but very bad for you just now.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But&mdash;whom?&#8221; questioned Myra, again.
+&#8220;Whom can you mean?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I mean Lady Ingleby,&#8221; replied the doctor,
+gravely. &#8220;When I send you away for your
+rest-cure, Lady Ingleby with her worries and
+questionings, doubts and fears, must be left
+behind. I shall send you to a little out-of-the-world
+village on the wild sea coast of
+Cornwall, where you know nobody, and nobody
+knows you. You must go incognito, as
+&#8216;Miss&#8217; or &#8216;Mrs.&#8217;&mdash;anything you please. Your
+rest-cure will consist primarily in being set
+free, for a time, from Lady Ingleby&#8217;s position,
+predicament, and perplexities. You must
+send word to all intimate friends, telling
+them you are going into retreat, and they
+must not write until they hear again. You
+will have leave to write one letter a week, to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span>
+one person only; and that person must be
+one of whom I can approve. You must eat
+plenty of wholesome food; roam about all day
+long in the open-air; rise early, retire early;
+live entirely in a simple, beautiful, wholesome
+present, firmly avoiding all remembrance of a
+sad past, and all anticipation of an uncertain
+future. Nobody is to know where you are,
+excepting myself, and the one friend to whom
+you may write. But we will arrange that
+somebody&mdash;say, for instance, your devoted
+attendant from the Lodge, shall hold herself
+free to come to you at an hour&#8217;s notice, should
+you be overwhelmed with a sudden sense
+of loneliness. The knowledge of this, will
+probably keep the need from arising. You
+can communicate with me daily if you like, by
+letter or by telegram; but other people must
+not know where you are. I do not wish you
+followed by the anxious or restless thoughts of
+many minds. To-morrow I will give you the
+name of a place I recommend, and of a comfortable
+hotel where you can order rooms.
+It must be a place you have never seen, probably
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span>
+one of which you have never heard. We
+are nearing the end of May. I should like you
+to start on the first of June. If you want a
+house-party at Shenstone this summer, you
+may invite your guests for the first of July.
+Lady Ingleby will be at home again by then,
+fully able to maintain her reputation as a
+hostess of unequalled charm, graciousness,
+and popularity. Morbid self-consciousness
+is a condition of mind from which you have
+hitherto been so completely free, that this unexpected
+attack has altogether unnerved you,
+and requires prompt and uncompromising
+measures.... Yes, Jane Dalmain may be
+your correspondent. You could not have
+chosen better.&#8221;</p>
+<p>This was the doctor&#8217;s verdict and prescription;
+and, as his patients never disputed
+the one, or declined to take the other, Myra
+found herself, on &#8220;the glorious first of June&#8221;
+flying south in the Great Western express,
+bound for the little fishing village of Tregarth
+where she had ordered rooms at the Moorhead
+Inn, in the name of Mrs. O&#8217;Mara.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='VI_AT_THE_MOORHEAD_INN' id='VI_AT_THE_MOORHEAD_INN'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2>
+<h3>AT THE MOORHEAD INN</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>The ruddy glow of a crimson sunset
+illumined cliff and hamlet, tinting the
+distant ocean into every shade of golden
+glory, as Myra walked up the gravelled path
+to the rustic porch of the Moorhead Inn, and
+looked around her with a growing sense of
+excited refreshment.</p>
+<p>She had come on foot from the little wayside
+station, her luggage following in a barrow;
+and this mode of progression, minus a
+footman and maid, and carrying her own
+cloak, umbrella, and travelling-bag, was in
+itself a charming novelty.</p>
+<p>At the door, she was received by the
+proprietress, a stately lady in black satin,
+wearing a double row of large jet beads, who
+reminded her instantly of all Lord Ingleby&#8217;s
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span>
+maiden aunts. She seemed an accentuated,
+dignified, concentrated embodiment of them
+all; and Myra longed for Billy, to share the
+joke.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Aunt Ingleby&#8221; requested Mrs. O&#8217;Mara to
+walk in, and hoped she had had a pleasant
+journey. Then she rang a very loud bell
+twice, in order to summon a maid to show her
+to her room; and, the maid not appearing at
+once, requested Mrs. O&#8217;Mara meanwhile to
+write her name in the visitors&#8217; book.</p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby walked into the hall, passing
+a smoking-room on the left, and, noting a
+door, with &#8220;Coffee Room&#8221; upon it in gold
+lettering, down a short passage immediately
+opposite. Up from the centre of the hall, on
+her right, went the rather wide old-fashioned
+staircase; and opposite to it, against the wall,
+between the smoking-room and a door labelled
+&#8220;Reception Room,&#8221; stood a marble-topped
+table. Lying open upon this table was a
+ponderous visitors&#8217; book. A fresh page had
+been recently commenced, as yet only containing
+four names. The first three were
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span>
+dated May the 8th, and read, in crabbed
+precise writing:</p>
+<div class='blockquot'>
+<p>Miss Amelia Murgatroyd,
+Miss Eliza Murgatroyd,
+Miss Susannah Murgatroyd ..... Lawn View, Putney.</p>
+</div>
+<p>Below these, bearing date a week later, in
+small precise writing of unmistakable character
+and clearness, the name:</p>
+<div class='blockquot'>
+<p>Jim Airth ..... London.</p>
+</div>
+<p>Pen and ink lay ready, and, without troubling
+to remove her glove, Lady Ingleby
+wrote beneath, in large, somewhat sprawling,
+handwriting:</p>
+<div class='blockquot'>
+<p>Mrs. O&#8217;Mara ..... The Lodge, Shenstone.</p>
+</div>
+<p>A maid appeared, took her cloak and bag,
+and preceded her up the stairs.</p>
+<p>As she reached the turn of the staircase,
+Lady Ingleby paused, and looked back into
+the hall.</p>
+<p>The door of the smoking-room opened, and
+a very tall man came out, taking a pipe from
+the pocket of his loose Norfolk jacket. As
+he strolled into the hall, his face reminded
+her of Ronnie&#8217;s, deep-bronzed and thin; only
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span>
+it was an older face&mdash;strong, rugged, purposeful.
+The heavy brown moustache could not
+hide the massive cut of chin and jaw.</p>
+<p>Catching sight of a fresh name in the book,
+he paused; then laying one large hand upon
+the table, bent over and read it.</p>
+<p>Myra stood still and watched, noting the
+broad shoulders, and the immense length of
+limb in the leather leggings.</p>
+<p>He appeared to study the open page longer
+than was necessary for the mere reading of
+the name. Then, without looking round,
+reached up, took a cap from the antler of a
+stag&#8217;s head high up on the wall, stuck it on the
+back of his head; swung round, and went out
+through the porch, whistling like a blackbird.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Jim Airth,&#8221; said Myra to herself, as she
+moved slowly on; &#8220;Jim Airth of <i>London</i>.
+What an address! He might just as well have
+put: &#8216;of the world!&#8217; A cross between a
+guardsman and a cowboy; and very likely he
+will turn out to be a commercial-traveller.&#8221;
+Then, as she reached the landing and came in
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span>
+sight of the rosy-cheeked maid, holding open
+the door of a large airy bedroom, she added
+with a whimsical smile: &#8220;All the same, I wish
+I had taken the trouble to write more neatly.&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='VII_MRS_O_MARA_S_CORRESPONDENCE' id='VII_MRS_O_MARA_S_CORRESPONDENCE'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2>
+<h3>MRS. O&#8217;MARA&#8217;S CORRESPONDENCE</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p><i>Letter from Lady Ingleby to the Honourable
+Mrs. Dalmain.</i></p>
+<div class='ra'>
+<p>The Moorhead Inn,</p>
+<p>Tregarth, Cornwall.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>My dear Jane</span>,</p>
+<p>Having been here a week, I think it is time
+I commenced my first letter to you.</p>
+<p>How does it feel to be a person considered
+pre-eminently suitable to minister to a mind
+diseased? Doesn&#8217;t it give you a sense of
+being, as it were, rice pudding, or Brand&#8217;s
+essence, or Maltine; something essentially safe
+and wholesome? You should have heard how
+Sir Deryck jumped at you, as soon as your
+name was mentioned, tentatively, as my possible
+correspondent. I had barely whispered
+it, when he leapt, and clinched the matter.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span>
+I believe &#8220;wholesome&#8221; was an adjective mentioned.
+I hope you do not mind, dear Jane.
+I must confess, I would sooner be macaroons
+or oyster-patties, even at the risk of giving
+my friends occasional indigestion. But then I
+have never gone in for the rôle of being helpful,
+in which you excel. Not that it is a &#8220;rôle&#8221; with
+you, dear Jane. Rather, it is an essential
+characteristic. You walk in, and find a hopeless
+tangle; gather up the threads in those
+firm capable hands; deftly sort and hold
+them; and, lo, the tangle is over; the skein of
+life is once more ready for winding!</p>
+<p>Well, there is not much tangle about me
+just now, thanks to our dear doctor&#8217;s most
+excellent prescription. It was a veritable
+stroke of genius, this setting me free from
+myself. From the first day, the sense of
+emancipation was indescribable. I enjoy being
+addressed as &#8220;Ma&#8217;am&#8221;; I revel in being
+without a maid, though it takes me ages to
+do my hair, and I have serious thoughts of
+wearing it in pigtails down my back! When
+I remember the poor, harassed, exhausted,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span>
+society-self I left behind, I feel like buying a
+wooden spade and bucket and starting out,
+all by myself, to build sand-castles on this
+delightful shore. I have no one to play with,
+for I am certain the Miss Murgatroyds&mdash;I
+am going to tell you of them&mdash;never made
+sand-castles; no, not even in their infancy,
+a century ago! They must always have been
+the sort of children who wore white frilled
+bloomers, poplin frocks, and large leghorn
+hats with ribbons tied beneath their excellent
+little chins, and walked demurely with their
+governess&mdash;looking shocked at other infants
+who whooped and ran. I feel inclined to
+whoop and run, now; and the Miss Murgatroyds
+are quite prepared to look shocked.</p>
+<p>But oh, the freedom of being nobody, and
+of having nothing to think of or do! And
+everything I see and hear gives me joy; a lark
+rising from the turf, and carolling its little
+self up into the blue; the great Atlantic
+breakers, pounding upon the shore; the fisher-folk,
+standing at the doors of their picturesque
+thatched cottages. All things seem alive,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span>
+with an exuberance of living, to which I have
+long been a stranger.</p>
+<p>Do you know this coast, with its high
+moorland, its splendid cliffs; and, far below,
+its sand coves, and ever-moving, rolling, surging,
+deep green sea? Wonderful! Beautiful!
+Infinite!</p>
+<p>My Inn is charming; primitive, yet comfortable.
+We have excellent coffee, fried fish
+in perfection; real nursery toast, farm butter,
+and home-made bread. When you supplement
+these with marmalade and mulberry
+jam, other things all cease to be necessities.</p>
+<p>Stray travellers come and go in motors,
+merely lunching, or putting up for one night;
+but there are only four other permanent
+guests. These all furnish me with unceasing
+interest and amusement. The three Miss
+Murgatroyds&mdash;oh, Jane, they are so antediluvian
+and quaint! Three ancient sisters,&mdash;by
+name, Amelia, Eliza, and Susannah. Their
+villa at Putney rejoices in the name of &#8220;Lawn
+View&#8221;; so characteristic and suitable; because
+no view reaching beyond the limits of their
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span>
+own front lawn appears to these dear ladies
+to be worthy of regard. They never go
+abroad, &#8220;excepting to the Isle of Wight,&#8221; because
+they &#8220;do not like foreigners.&#8221; A party
+of quite charming Americans arrived just
+before dinner the other day, in an automobile,
+and kept us lively during their flying visit.
+They were cordial over the consommé; friendly
+over the fish; and quite confidential by the
+time we reached the third course. But, alas,
+these delightful cousins from the other
+side, were considered &#8220;foreigners&#8221; by the
+Miss Murgatroyds, who consequently encased
+themselves in the frigid armour of their own
+self-conscious primness; and passed the mustard,
+without a smile. I felt constrained, afterwards,
+to apologise for my country-women;
+but the Americans, overflowing with appreciative
+good-nature, explained that they had
+come over expressly in order to see old British
+relics of every kind. They asked me whether
+I did not think the Miss Murgatroyds might
+have stepped &#8220;right out of Dickens.&#8221; I was
+fairly nonplussed, because I thought they
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span>
+were going to say &#8220;out of the ark&#8221;&mdash;you know
+how one mentally finishes a sentence as soon
+as it is begun?&mdash;and I simply dared not
+confess that I have not read Dickens! Alas,
+how ignorant of our own standard literature
+we are apt to feel when we talk with Americans,
+and find it completely a part of their
+everyday life.</p>
+<p>But I must tell you more about the Miss
+Murgatroyds&mdash;Amelia, Eliza, and Susannah.
+When quite at peace among themselves, which
+is not often, they are Milly, Lizzie, and Susie;
+but a little rift within the lute is marked by
+the immediate use of their full baptismal
+names. Poor Susannah being the youngest&mdash;the
+youthful side of sixty&mdash;and inclined to
+be kittenish and giddy, is very rarely &#8220;Susie.&#8221;
+Miss Murgatroyd&mdash;Amelia&mdash;is stern and unbending.
+She wears a cameo brooch the size
+of a tablespoon, and lays down the law in
+precise and elegant English, even when
+asking Susie to pass the crumpets. Miss
+Eliza, the second sister, is meek and unoffending.
+Her attitude toward Miss Amelia is one
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span>
+of perpetual apology. She addresses Susie
+as &#8220;my dear love,&#8221; excepting on occasions
+when Susie&#8217;s behaviour has put her quite
+outside the pale. Then she calls her, &#8220;my
+<i>dear</i> Susannah!&#8221; and sighs. I am inclined
+to think Miss Eliza suffers from a demonstrative
+nature, which has never had an outlet.</p>
+<p>But Susie is the lively one. Susie would
+be a flirt, if she dared, and if any man were
+bold enough to flirt with her under Miss
+Amelia&#8217;s eye. Susie is barely fifty-five, and
+her elder sisters regard her as a mere child,
+and are very ready with reproof and correction.
+Susie has a pink and white complexion, a soft
+fat little face, and plump dimpled hands;
+and Susie is given to vanity. Jim Airth held
+open the door of the coffee-room for her one
+day, and Susie&mdash;I should say Susannah&mdash;has
+been in a flutter ever since. Poor naughty
+Susie! Miss Murgatroyd has changed her
+place at meals&mdash;they have a table in the centre
+of the room&mdash;and made her sit with her back
+to Jim Airth; who has a round table, all to
+himself, in the window.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span></p>
+<p>Now I must tell you about Jim Airth, and of
+a curious coincidence connected with him,
+which you must not repeat to the doctor, for
+fear he should move me on.</p>
+<p>Let me confess at once, that I am extremely
+interested in Jim Airth&mdash;and it is sweet and
+generous of me to admit it, for Jim Airth is
+not in the least interested in me! He rarely
+vouchsafes me a word or a glance. He is a
+bear, and a savage; but such a fine good-looking
+bear; and such a splendid and interesting
+savage! He is quite the tallest man I ever saw;
+with immense limbs, lean and big-boned; yet
+moves with the supple grace of an Indian.
+He was through that campaign last year, and
+had a terrible turn of sunstroke and fever,
+during which his head was shaved. Consequently
+his thick brown hair is now at the
+stage of standing straight up all over it like a
+bottle-brush. I know Susie longs to smooth
+it down; but that would be a task beyond
+Susie&#8217;s utmost efforts. His brows are very
+stern and level; and his eyes, deep-set beneath
+them, of that gentian blue which makes one
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span>
+think of Alpine heights. They can flash and
+gleam, on occasions, and sometimes look almost
+purple. He wears a heavy brown
+moustache, and his jaw and chin are terrifying
+in their masterful strength. Yet he smokes an
+old briar pipe; whistles like a blackbird; and
+derives immense amusement from playing up
+to naughty Susie&#8217;s coyness, when the cameo
+brooch is turned another way. I have seen
+his eyes twinkle with fun when Miss Susannah
+has purposely let fall her handkerchief, and he
+has reached out a long arm, picked it up, and
+restored it. Whereupon Susie has hastened
+out, in the wake of her sisters, in a blushing
+flutter; Miss Eliza turning to whisper: &#8220;Oh,
+my dear love! Oh Susannah!&#8221; I try, when
+these things happen, to catch Jim Airth&#8217;s
+merry eye, and share the humour of the
+situation; but he stolidly sees the wall through
+me on all occasions, and would tread heavily
+on <i>my</i> poor handkerchief, if I took to dropping
+it. Miss Murgatroyd tells me that he is a
+confirmed hater of feminine beauty; upon
+which poor Miss Susannah takes a surreptitious
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span>
+prink into the gold-framed mirror over
+the reception-room mantelpiece, and says,
+plaintively: &#8220;Oh, do not say that, Amelia!&#8221;
+But Amelia <i>does</i> say &#8220;that&#8221;; and a good deal
+more!</p>
+<p>When first I saw Jim Airth, I thought him
+a cross between a cowboy and a guardsman;
+and I think so still. But what do you
+suppose he turns out to be, beside? An
+author! And, stranger still, he is writing
+an important book called <i>Modern Warfare;
+its Methods and Requirements</i>, in which he is
+explaining and working out many of Michael&#8217;s
+ideas and experiments. He was right through
+that border war, and took part in the assault
+on Targai. He must have known Michael,
+intimately.</p>
+<p>All this information I have from Miss
+Murgatroyd. I sometimes sit with them
+in the reception-room after dinner, where
+they wind wool and knit&mdash;endless winding;
+perpetual knitting! At five minutes to
+ten, Miss Murgatroyd says; &#8220;Now, my dear
+Eliza. Now, Susannah,&#8221; which is the signal
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span>
+for bestowing all their goods and chattels into
+black satin work-bags. Then, at ten o&#8217;clock
+precisely, Miss Murgatroyd rises, and they
+procession up to bed&mdash;ah, no! I beg their
+pardons. The Miss Murgatroyds never &#8220;go
+to bed.&#8221; They all &#8220;retire to rest.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Jim Airth and his doings form a favourite
+topic of conversation. They speak of him as
+&#8220;Mr. Airth,&#8221; which sounds so funny. He is
+not the sort of person one ever could call
+&#8220;Mister.&#8221; To me, he has been &#8220;Jim Airth,&#8221;
+ever since I saw his name, in small neat
+writing, in the visitors&#8217; book. I had to put
+mine just beneath it, and of course I wrote
+&#8220;Mrs. O&#8217;Mara&#8221;; then, as an address seemed expected,
+added: &#8220;The Lodge, Shenstone.&#8221; Just
+after I had written this, Jim Airth came into
+the hall, and stood quite still studying it.
+I saw him, from half-way up the stairs. At
+first I thought he was marvelling at my
+shocking handwriting; but now I believe the
+name &#8220;Shenstone&#8221; caught his eye. No
+doubt he knew it to be Michael&#8217;s family-seat.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span></p>
+<p>Do you know, it was so strange, the other
+night, Miss Murgatroyd held forth in the
+reception-room about Michael&#8217;s death. She
+explained that he was &#8220;the first to dash into
+the breach,&#8221; and &#8220;fell with his face to the foe.&#8221;
+She also added that she used to know &#8220;poor
+dear Lady Ingleby,&#8221; intimately. This was
+interesting, and seemed worthy of further
+inquiry. It turned out that she is a distant
+cousin of a weird old person who used to call
+every year on mamma, for a subscription to
+some society for promoting thrift among the
+inhabitants of the South Sea Islands. Dear
+mamma used annually to jump upon this
+courageous old party and flatten her out; and
+listening to the process was, to us, a fearful
+joy; but annually she returned to the charge.
+On one of these occasions, just before my
+marriage, Miss Murgatroyd accompanied her.
+Hence her intimate knowledge of &#8220;poor dear
+Lady Ingleby.&#8221; Also she has a friend who,
+quite recently, saw Lady Ingleby driving in
+the Park; &#8220;and, poor thing, she had sadly gone
+off in looks.&#8221; I felt inclined to prink in the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span>
+golden mirror, after the manner of Susie, and
+exclaim: &#8220;Oh, do not say that, Amelia!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Isn&#8217;t it queer the way in which such people
+as these worthy ladies, yearn to be able to say
+they know us; for really, when all is said and
+done, we are not very much worth knowing?
+I would rather know a cosmopolitan cowboy,
+such as Jim Airth, than half the titled folk on
+my visiting-list.</p>
+<p>But really, Jane, I must not mention him
+again, or you will think I am infected with
+Susie&#8217;s flutter. Not so, my dear! He has
+shown me no little courtesies; given few signs
+of being conscious of my presence; barely
+returned my morning greeting, though my
+lonely table is just opposite his, in the large
+bay-window.</p>
+<p>But in this new phase of life, everything
+seems of absorbing interest, and the individuality
+of the few people I see, takes on an
+exaggerated importance. (Really that sentence
+might almost be Sir Deryck&#8217;s!) Also,
+I really believe Jim Airth&#8217;s peculiar fascination
+consists in the fact that I am conscious of his
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span>
+disapproval. If he thinks of me at all, it is
+not with admiration, nor even with liking.
+And this is a novel experience; for I have been
+spoilt by perpetual approval, and satiated by
+senseless and unmerited adulation.</p>
+<p>Oh Jane! As I walk along these cliffs,
+and hear the Atlantic breakers pounding
+against their base, far down below; as I watch
+the sea-gulls circling around on their strong
+white wings; as I realise the strength, the
+force, the liberty, in nature; the growth and
+progress which accompanies life; I feel I have
+never really lived. Nothing has ever felt
+<i>strong</i>, either beneath me, or around me, or
+against me. Had I once been mastered, and
+held, and made to do as another willed, I
+should have felt love was a reality, and life
+would have become worth living. But I
+have just dawdled through the years, doing
+exactly as I pleased; making mistakes, and
+nobody troubling to set me right; failing, and
+nobody disappointed that I had not succeeded.</p>
+<p>I realise now, that there is a key to life, and
+a key to love, which has never been placed in
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span>
+my hands. What it is, I know not. But if
+I ever learn, it will be from just such a man as
+Jim Airth. I have never really talked with
+him, yet I am so conscious of his strength and
+virility, that he stands to me, in the abstract,
+for all that is strongest in manhood, and
+most vital in life.</p>
+<p>Much of the benefit of my time here, quite
+unconsciously to himself, comes to me from
+him. When he walks into the house, whistling
+like a blackbird; when he hangs up his cap
+on an antler a foot or two higher than other
+people could reach; when he ploughs unhesitatingly
+through his meals, with a book or
+a paper stuck up in front of him; when he
+dumps his big boots out into the passage,
+long after the quiet house has hushed into
+repose, and I smile, in the darkness, at the
+thought of how the sound will have annoyed
+Miss Murgatroyd, startled Miss Eliza, and
+made naughty Miss Susannah&#8217;s heart flutter;&mdash;when
+all these things happen every day,
+I am conscious that a clearer understanding
+of the past, a new strength for the future, and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span>
+a fresh outlook on life, come to me, simply
+from the fact that he is himself, and that he is
+here. Jim Airth may not be a saint; but he is
+a <i>man!</i></p>
+<p>Dear Jane, I should scarcely venture to send
+you this epistle, were it not for all the adjectives&mdash;&#8220;wholesome,&#8221;
+&#8220;helpful,&#8221; &#8220;understanding,&#8221;
+etc., which so rightly apply to you.
+<i>You</i> will not misunderstand. Of that I have
+no fear. But do not tell the doctor more than
+that I am very well, in excellent spirits, and
+happier than I have ever been in my life.</p>
+<p>Tell Garth I loved his last song. How often
+I sing to myself, as I walk in the sea breeze
+and sunshine, the hairbells waving round my
+feet:</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>&#8220;On God&#8217;s fair earth, &#8217;mid blossoms blue,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Fresh hope must ever spring.&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>I trust I sing it in tune; but I know I have
+not much ear.</p>
+<p>And how is your little Geoffrey? Has he
+the beautiful shining eyes, we all remember?
+I have often laughed over your account of his
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span>
+sojourn at Overdene, and of how our dear
+naughty old duchess stirred him up to rebel
+against his nurse. You must have had your
+hands full when you and Garth returned from
+America. Oh, Jane, how different my life
+would have been if I had had a little son!
+Ah, well!</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>&#8220;There is no room for sad despair,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>When heaven&#8217;s love is everywhere.&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>Tell Garth, I love it; but I wish he wrote
+simpler accompaniments. That one beats
+me!</p>
+<div class='ra'>
+<p style=' margin-right:10em;'>Yours, dear Jane,</p>
+<p style=' margin-right:4em;'>Gratefully and affectionately,</p>
+<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Myra Ingleby</span>.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='minor' />
+
+<p><i>Letter from the Honourable Mrs. Dalmain
+to Lady Ingleby.</i></p>
+<div class='ra'>
+<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Castle Gleneesh, N. B.</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>My Dear Myra</span>,</p>
+<p>No, I have not the smallest objection to
+representing rice pudding, or anything else
+plain and wholesome, providing I agree with
+you, and suffice for the need of the moment.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span></p>
+<p>I am indeed glad to have so good a report.
+It proves Deryck right in his diagnosis and
+prescription. Keep to the latter faithfully,
+in every detail.</p>
+<p>I am much interested in your account of
+your fellow-guests at the Moorhead Inn. No,
+I do not misunderstand your letter; nor do
+I credit you with any foolish sentimentality,
+or Susie-like flutterings. Jim Airth stands to
+you for an abstract thing&mdash;uncompromising
+manhood, in its strength and assurance; very
+attractive after the loneliness and sense of
+being cut adrift, which have been your portion
+lately. Only, remember&mdash;where living men
+and women are concerned, the safely abstract
+is apt suddenly to become the perilously
+personal; and your future happiness may be
+seriously involved, before you realise the
+danger. I confess, I fail to understand the
+man&#8217;s avoidance of you. He sounds the sort
+of fellow who would be friendly and pleasant
+toward all women, and passionately loyal to
+one. Perhaps you, with your sweet loveliness&mdash;a
+fact, my dear, notwithstanding the observations
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span>
+in the Park, of Miss Amelia&#8217;s crony!&mdash;may
+remind him of some long-closed page of
+past history, and he may shrink from the pain
+of a consequent turning of memory&#8217;s leaves.
+No doubt Miss Susannah recalls some nice
+old maiden-aunt, and he can afford to respond
+to her blandishments.</p>
+<p>What you say of the way in which Americans
+know our standard authors, reminds me of a
+fellow-passenger on board the <i>Baltic</i>, on our
+outward voyage&mdash;a charming woman, from
+Hartford, Connecticut, who sat beside us at
+meals. She had been spending five months
+in Europe, travelling incessantly, and finished
+up with London&mdash;her first visit to our capital&mdash;expecting
+to be altogether too tired to enjoy
+it; but found it a place of such abounding
+interest and delight, that life went on with
+fresh zest, and fatigue was forgotten. &#8220;Every
+street,&#8221; she explained, &#8220;is so familiar. We
+have never seen them before, and yet they
+are more familiar than the streets of our native
+cities. It is the London of Dickens and of
+Thackeray. We know it all. We recognise
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span>
+the streets as we come to them. The places
+are homelike to us. <i>We have known them all
+our lives.</i>&#8221; I enjoyed this tribute to our
+English literature. But I wonder, my dear
+Myra, how many streets, east of Temple
+Bar, in our dear old London, are &#8220;homelike&#8221;
+to you!</p>
+<p>Garth insists upon sending you at once a
+selection of his favourites from among the
+works of Dickens. So expect a bulky package
+before long. You might read them aloud
+to the Miss Murgatroyds, while they knit
+and wind wool.</p>
+<p>Garth thoroughly enjoyed our trip to
+America. You know why we went? Since
+he lost his sight, all sounds mean so much to
+him. He is so boyishly eager to hear all there
+is to be heard in the world. Any possibility
+of a new sound-experience fills him with
+enthusiastic expectation, and away we go!
+He set his heart upon hearing the thunderous
+roar of Niagara, so off we went, by the White
+Star Line. His enjoyment was complete,
+when at last he stood close to the Horseshoe
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span>
+Fall, on the Canadian side, with his hand on
+the rail at the place where the spray showers
+over you, and the great rushing boom seems
+all around. And as we stood there together, a
+little bird on a twig beside us, began to sing!&mdash;Garth
+is putting it all into a symphony.</p>
+<p>How true is what you say of the genial
+friendliness of Americans! I was thinking it
+over, on our homeward voyage. It seems to
+me, that, as a rule, they are so far less self-conscious
+than we. Their minds are fully at
+liberty to go out at once, in keenest appreciation
+and interest, to meet a new acquaintance.
+Our senseless British greeting: &#8220;How do you
+do?&#8221;&mdash;that everlasting question, which neither
+expects nor awaits an answer, <i>can</i> only lead
+to trite remarks about the weather; whereas
+America&#8217;s &#8220;I am happy to meet you, Mrs.
+Dalmain,&#8221; or &#8220;I am pleased to make your
+acquaintance, Lady Ingleby,&#8221; is an open door,
+through which we pass at once to fuller
+friendliness. Too often, in the moment of
+introduction, the reserved British nature turns
+in upon itself, sensitively debating what
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span>
+impression it is making; nervously afraid of
+being too expansive; fearful of giving itself
+away. But, as I said, the American mind
+comes forth to meet us with prompt interest
+and appreciative expectation; and we make
+more friends, in that land of ready sympathies,
+in half an hour, than we do in half a year of our
+own stiff social functions. Perhaps you will
+put me down as biassed in my opinion. Well,
+they were wondrous good to Garth and me;
+and we depend so greatly upon people <i>saying</i>
+exactly the right thing at the right moment.
+When friendly looks cannot be seen, tactful
+words become more than ever a necessity.</p>
+<p>Yes, little Geoff&#8217;s eyes are bright and
+shining, and the true golden brown. In
+many other ways he is very like his father.</p>
+<p>Garth sends his love, and promises you a
+special accompaniment to the &#8220;Blackbird&#8217;s
+Song,&#8221; such as can easily be played with one
+finger!</p>
+<p>It seems so strange to address this envelope
+to Mrs. O&#8217;Mara. It reminds me of a time
+when I dropped my own identity and used
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span>
+another woman&#8217;s name. I only wish your
+experiment might end as happily as mine.</p>
+<p>Ah, Myra dearest, there is a Best for every
+life! Sometimes we can only reach it by a rocky
+path or along a thorny way; and those who
+fear the pain, come to it not at all. But such
+of us as have attained, can testify that it is
+worth while. From all you have told me
+lately, I gather the Best has not yet come your
+way. Keep on expecting. Do not be content
+with less.</p>
+<p>We certainly must not let Deryck know
+that Jim Airth&mdash;what a nice name&mdash;was at
+Targai. He would move you on, promptly.</p>
+<p>Report again next week; and do abide, if
+necessary, beneath the safe chaperonage of
+the cameo brooch.</p>
+<div class='ra'>
+<p style=' margin-right:6em;'>Yours, in all fidelity,</p>
+<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Jane Dalmain</span>.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='VIII_IN_HORSESHOE_COVE' id='VIII_IN_HORSESHOE_COVE'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+<h3>IN HORSESHOE COVE</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Lady Ingleby sat in the honeysuckle
+arbour, pouring her tea from a little
+brown earthenware teapot, and spreading
+substantial slices of home-made bread with the
+creamiest of farm butter, when the aged
+postman hobbled up to the garden gate of the
+Moorhead Inn, with a letter for Mrs. O&#8217;Mara.</p>
+<p>For a moment she could scarcely bring
+herself to open an envelope bearing another
+name than her own. Then, smiling at her
+momentary hesitation, she tore it open with
+the keen delight of one, who, accustomed to
+a dozen letters a day, has passed a week
+without receiving any.</p>
+<p>She read Mrs. Dalmain&#8217;s letter through
+rapidly; and once she laughed aloud; and once
+a sudden colour flamed into her cheeks.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span></p>
+<p>Then she laid it down, and helped herself
+to honey&mdash;real heather-honey, golden in the
+comb.</p>
+<p>She took up her letter again, and read it
+carefully, weighing each word.</p>
+<p>Then:&mdash;&#8220;Good old Jane!&#8221; she said; &#8220;that
+is rather neatly put: the &#8216;safely abstract&#8217;
+becoming the &#8216;perilously personal.&#8217; She has
+acquired the knack of terse and forceful
+phraseology from her long friendship with the
+doctor. I can do it myself, when I try; only,
+<i>my</i> Sir Derycky sentences are apt merely to
+sound well, and mean nothing at all. And&mdash;after
+all&mdash;<i>does</i> this of Jane&#8217;s mean anything
+worthy of consideration? Could six
+foot five of abstraction&mdash;eating its breakfast
+in complete unconsciousness of one&#8217;s presence,
+returning one&#8217;s timid &#8216;good-morning&#8217; with perfunctory
+politeness, and relegating one, while
+still debating the possibility of venturing a
+remark on the weather, to obvious oblivion&mdash;ever
+become perilously personal?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby laughed again, returned the
+letter to its envelope, and proceeded to cut
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span>
+herself a slice of home-made currant cake.
+As she finished it, with a final cup of tea, she
+thought with amusement of the difference
+between this substantial meal in the honeysuckle
+arbour of the old inn garden, and the
+fashionable teas then going on in crowded
+drawing-rooms in town, where people hurried
+in, took a tiny roll of thin bread-and-butter,
+and a sip at luke-warm tea, which had stood
+sufficiently long to leave an abiding taste of
+tannin; heard or imparted a few more or less
+detrimental facts concerning mutual friends;
+then hurried on elsewhere, to a cucumber
+sandwich, colder tea, which had stood even
+longer, and a fresh instalment of gossip.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, why do we do it?&#8221; mused Lady
+Ingleby. Then, taking up her scarlet parasol,
+she crossed the little lawn, and stood at the
+garden gate, in the afternoon sunlight, debating
+in which direction she should go.</p>
+<p>Usually her walks took her along the top of
+the cliffs, where the larks, springing from the
+short turf and clumps of waving harebells,
+sang themselves up into the sky. She loved
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span>
+being high above the sea, and hearing the
+distant thunder of the breakers on the rocks
+below.</p>
+<p>But to-day the steep little street, down
+through the fishing village, to the cove, looked
+inviting. The tide was out, and the sands
+gleamed golden.</p>
+<p>Also, from her seat in the arbour, she had
+seen Jim Airth&#8217;s tall figure go swinging along
+the cliff edge, silhouetted against the clear
+blue of the sky. And one sentence in the
+letter she had just received, made this into a
+factor which turned her feet toward the shore.</p>
+<p>The friendly Cornish folk, sitting on their
+doorsteps in the sunshine, smiled at the lovely
+woman in white serge, who passed down their
+village street, so tall and graceful, beneath
+the shade of her scarlet parasol. An item in
+the doctor&#8217;s prescription had been the discarding
+of widow&#8217;s weeds, and it had seemed
+quite natural to Myra to come down to her
+first Cornish breakfast in a cream serge gown.</p>
+<p>Arrived at the shore, she turned in the
+direction she usually took when up above,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span>
+and walked quickly along the firm smooth
+sand; pausing occasionally to pick up a
+beautifully marked stone, or to examine a
+brilliant sea-anemone or gleaming jelly-fish,
+left stranded by the tide.</p>
+<p>Presently she reached a place where the cliff
+jutted out toward the sea; and, climbing over
+slippery rocks, studded with shining pools
+in which crimson seaweed waved, crabs
+scudded sideways from her passing shadow,
+and darting shrimps flicked across and buried
+themselves hastily in the sand, Myra found
+herself in a most fascinating cove. The line
+of cliff here made a horseshoe, not quite half a
+mile in length. The little bay, within this
+curve, was a place of almost fairy-like beauty;
+the sand a soft glistening white, decked with
+delicate crimson seaweed. The cliffs, towering
+up above, gave welcome shadow to the shore;
+yet the sun behind them still gleamed and
+sparkled on the distant sea.</p>
+<p>Myra walked to the centre of the horseshoe;
+then, picking up a piece of driftwood, scooped
+out a comfortable hollow in the sand, about a
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span>
+dozen yards from the foot of the cliff; stuck her
+open parasol up behind it, to shield herself from
+the observation, from above, of any chance
+passer-by; and, settling comfortably into the
+soft hollow, lay back, watching, through
+half-closed lids, the fleeting shadows, the blue
+sky, the gently moving sea. Little white
+clouds blushed rosy red. An opal tint gleamed
+on the water. The moving ripple seemed too
+far away to break the restful silence.</p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby&#8217;s eyelids drooped lower and
+lower.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, my dear Jane,&#8221; she murmured,
+dreamily watching a snow-white sail, as it
+rounded the point, curtseyed, and vanished
+from view; &#8220;undoubtedly a&mdash;a well-expressed
+sentence; but far from&mdash;from&mdash;being fact.
+The safely abstract could hardly require&mdash;a&mdash;a&mdash;a
+cameo&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>The long walk, the sea breeze, the distant
+lapping of the water&mdash;all these combined had
+done their soothing work.</p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby slept peacefully in Horseshoe
+Cove; and the rising tide crept in.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='IX_JIM_AIRTH_TO_THE_RESCUE' id='IX_JIM_AIRTH_TO_THE_RESCUE'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2>
+<h3>JIM AIRTH TO THE RESCUE</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>An hour later, a man swung along the path
+at the summit of the cliffs, whistling like
+a blackbird.</p>
+<p>The sun was setting; and, as he walked, he
+revelled in the gold and crimson of the sky;
+in the opal tints upon the heaving sea.</p>
+<p>The wind had risen as the sun set, and
+breakers were beginning to pound along the
+shore.</p>
+<p>Suddenly something caught his eye, far
+down below.</p>
+<p>&#8220;By Jove!&#8221; he said. &#8220;A scarlet poppy on
+the sands!&#8221;</p>
+<p>He walked on, until his rapid stride brought
+him to the centre of the cliff above Horseshoe
+Cove.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span></p>
+<p>Then&mdash;&#8220;Good Lord!&#8221; said Jim Airth,
+and stood still.</p>
+<p>He had caught sight of Lady Ingleby&#8217;s
+white skirt reposing on the sand, beyond the
+scarlet parasol.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good Lord!&#8221; said Jim Airth.</p>
+<p>Then he scanned the horizon. Not a boat
+to be seen.</p>
+<p>His quick eye travelled along the cliff, the
+way he had come. Not a living thing in sight.</p>
+<p>On to the fishing village. Faint threads of
+ascending vapour indicated chimneys. &#8220;Two
+miles at least,&#8221; muttered Jim Airth. &#8220;I could
+not run it and get back with a boat, under
+three quarters of an hour.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Then he looked down into the cove.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Both ends cut off. The water will reach
+her feet in ten minutes; will sweep the base
+of the cliff, in twenty.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Exactly beneath the spot where he stood,
+more than half way down, was a ledge about
+six feet long by four feet wide.</p>
+<p>Letting himself over the edge, holding to
+tufts of grass, tiny shrubs, jutting stones,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span>
+cracks in the surface of the sandstone, he
+managed to reach this narrow ledge, dropping
+the last ten feet, and landing on it by an almost
+superhuman effort of balance.</p>
+<p>One moment he paused; carefully took its
+measure; then, leaning over, looked down.
+Sixty feet remained, a precipitous slope, with
+nothing to which foot could hold, or hand
+could cling.</p>
+<p>Jim Airth buttoned his Norfolk jacket, and
+tightened his belt. Then slipping, feet foremost
+off the ledge, he glissaded down on his
+back, bending his knees at the exact moment
+when his feet thudded heavily on to the sand.</p>
+<p>For a moment the shock stunned him.
+Then he got up and looked around.</p>
+<p>He stood, within ten yards of the scarlet
+parasol, on the small strip of sand still left
+uncovered by the rapidly advancing sweep of
+the rising tide.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='X__YEO_HO_WE_GO' id='X__YEO_HO_WE_GO'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER X</h2>
+<h3>&#8220;YEO HO, WE GO!&#8221;</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>&#8220;A cameo chaperonage,&#8221; murmured Lady
+Ingleby, and suddenly opened her eyes.</p>
+<p>Sky and sea were still there, but between
+them, closer than sea or sky, looking down
+upon her with a tense light in his blue eyes,
+stood Jim Airth.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why, I have been asleep!&#8221; said Lady
+Ingleby.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You have,&#8221; said Jim Airth; &#8220;and meanwhile
+the sun has set, and&mdash;the tide has come
+up. Allow me to assist you to rise.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby put her hand into his, and
+he helped her to her feet. She stood beside
+him gazing, with wide startled eyes, at the
+expanse of sea, the rushing waves, the tiny
+strip of sand.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;The tide seems very high,&#8221; said Lady
+Ingleby.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Very high,&#8221; agreed Jim Airth. He stood
+close beside her, but his eyes still eagerly
+scanned the water. If by any chance a boat
+came round the point there would still be
+time to hail it.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We seem to be cut off,&#8221; said Lady Ingleby.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We <i>are</i> cut off,&#8221; replied Jim Airth, laconically.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then I suppose we must have a boat,&#8221;
+said Lady Ingleby.</p>
+<p>&#8220;An excellent suggestion,&#8221; replied Jim
+Airth, drily, &#8220;if a boat were to be had. But,
+unfortunately, we are two miles from the
+hamlet, and this is not a time when boats
+pass in and out; nor would they come this
+way. When I saw you, from the top of the
+cliff, I calculated the chances as to whether I
+could reach the boats, and be back here in
+time. But, before I could have returned with
+a boat, you would have&mdash;been very wet,&#8221;
+finished Jim Airth, somewhat lamely.</p>
+<p>He looked at the lovely face, close to his
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span>
+shoulder. It was pale and serious, but showed
+no sign of fear.</p>
+<p>He glanced at the point of cliff beyond.
+Twenty feet above its rocky base the breakers
+were dashing; but round that point would be
+safety.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Can you swim?&#8221; asked Jim Airth, eagerly.</p>
+<p>Myra&#8217;s calm grey eyes met his, steadily. A
+gleam of amusement dawned in them.</p>
+<p>&#8220;If you put your hand under my chin,
+and count &#8216;one&mdash;two! one&mdash;two!&#8217; very loud
+and quickly, I can swim nearly ten yards,&#8221;
+she said.</p>
+<p>Jim Airth laughed. His eyes met hers, in
+sudden comprehending comradeship. &#8220;By
+Jove, you&#8217;re plucky!&#8221; they seemed to say.
+But what he really said was: &#8220;Then swimming
+is no go.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No go, for me,&#8221; said Myra, earnestly,
+&#8220;nor for you, weighted by me. We should
+never get round that eddying whirlpool. It
+would merely mean that we should both be
+drowned. But you can easily do it alone.
+Oh, go at once! Go quickly! And&mdash;don&#8217;t
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span>
+look back. I shall be all right. I shall just
+sit down against the cliff, and wait. I have
+always been fond of the sea.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Jim Airth looked at her again. And, this
+time, open admiration shone in his keen eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, brave!&#8221; he said. &#8220;A mother of
+soldiers! Such women make of us a fighting
+race.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Myra laid her hand on his sleeve. &#8220;My
+friend,&#8221; she said, &#8220;it was never given me to
+be a mother. But I am a soldier&#8217;s daughter,
+and a soldier&#8217;s widow; and&mdash;I am not afraid
+to die. Oh, I do beg of you&mdash;give me one
+handclasp and go!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Jim Airth took the hand held out, but he
+kept it firmly in his own.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You shall not die,&#8221; he said, between his
+teeth. &#8220;Do you suppose I would leave any
+woman to die alone? And <i>you</i>&mdash;you, of all
+women!&mdash;By heaven,&#8221; he repeated, doggedly;
+&#8220;you shall not die. Do you think I could go;
+and leave&mdash;&#8221; he broke off abruptly.</p>
+<p>Myra smiled. His hand was very strong,
+and her heart felt strangely restful. And had
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span>
+he not said: &#8220;<i>You</i>, of all women?&#8221; But,
+even in what seemed likely to be her last
+moments, Lady Ingleby&#8217;s unfailing instinct
+was to be tactful.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am sure you would leave no woman
+in danger,&#8221; she said; &#8220;and some, alas! might
+have been easier to save than I. Plump little
+Miss Susie would have floated.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Jim Airth&#8217;s big laugh rang out. &#8220;And
+Miss Murgatroyd could have sailed away in
+her cameo,&#8221; he said.</p>
+<p>Then, as if that laugh had broken the spell
+which held him inactive: &#8220;Come,&#8221; he cried,
+and drew her to the foot of the cliff; &#8220;we have
+not a moment to lose! Look! Do you see
+the way I came down? See that long slide
+in the sand? I tobogganed down there on
+my back. Pretty steep, and nothing to hold
+to, I admit; but not so very far up, after all.
+And, where my slide begins, is a blessed ledge
+four foot by six.&#8221; He pulled out a huge
+clasp-knife, opened the largest blade, and
+commenced hacking steps in the face of the
+cliff. &#8220;We must climb,&#8221; said Jim Airth.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I have never climbed,&#8221; whispered Myra&#8217;s
+voice behind him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You must climb to-day,&#8221; said Jim Airth.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I could never even climb trees,&#8221; whispered
+Myra.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You must climb a cliff to-night. It is
+our only chance.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He hacked on, rapidly.</p>
+<p>Suddenly he paused. &#8220;Show me your
+reach,&#8221; he said. &#8220;Mine would not do. Put
+your left hand there; so. Now stretch up
+with your right; as high as you can, easily....
+Ah! three foot six, or thereabouts. Now
+your left foot close to the bottom. Step up
+with your right, as high as you can comfortably....
+Two foot, nine. Good! One
+step, more or less, might make all the difference,
+by-and-by. Now listen, while I
+work. What a God-send for us that there
+happens to be, just here, this stratum of soft
+sand. We should have been done for, had
+the cliff been serpentine marble. You must
+choose between two plans. I could scrape
+you a step, wider than the rest&mdash;almost a
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span>
+ledge&mdash;just out of reach of the water, leaving
+you there, while I go on up, and finish.
+Then I could return for you. You could
+climb in front, I helping from below. You
+would feel safer. Or&mdash;you must follow me
+up now, step by step, as I cut them.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I could not wait on a ledge alone,&#8221; said
+Myra. &#8220;I will follow you, step by step.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good,&#8221; said Jim Airth; &#8220;it will save time.
+I am afraid you must take off your shoes and
+stockings. Nothing will do for this work,
+but naked feet. We shall need to stick our
+toes into the sand, and make them cling on
+like fingers.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He pulled off his own boots and stockings;
+then drew the belt from his Norfolk jacket,
+and fastened it firmly round his left ankle in
+such a way that a long end would hang down
+behind him as he mounted.</p>
+<p>&#8220;See that?&#8221; he said. &#8220;When you are in
+the niches below me, it will hang close to your
+hands. If you are slipping, and feel you <i>must</i>
+clutch at something, catch hold of that. Only,
+if possible, shout first, and I will stick on like
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span>
+a limpet, and try to withstand the strain.
+But don&#8217;t do it, unless really necessary.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He picked up Myra&#8217;s shoes and stockings,
+and put them into his big pockets.</p>
+<p>At that moment an advance wave rushed up
+the sand and caught their bare feet.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Jim Airth,&#8221; cried Myra, &#8220;go without
+me! I have not a steady head. I cannot
+climb.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He put his hands upon her shoulders, and
+looked full into her eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You <i>can</i> climb,&#8221; he said. &#8220;You <i>must</i>
+climb. You <i>shall</i> climb. We must climb&mdash;or
+drown. And, remember: if you fall, I
+fall too. You will not be saving me, by
+letting yourself go.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She looked up into his eyes, despairingly.
+They blazed into hers from beneath his bent
+brows. She felt the tremendous mastery of
+his will. Her own gave one final struggle.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have nothing to live for, Jim Airth,&#8221; she
+said. &#8220;I am alone in the world.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;So am I,&#8221; he cried. &#8220;I have been worse
+than alone, for a half score of years. But
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span>
+there is <i>life</i> to live for. Would you throw
+away the highest of all gifts? I want to live&mdash;Good
+God! I <i>must</i> live; and so must you. We
+live or die together.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He loosed her shoulders and took her by
+the wrists. He lifted her trembling hands,
+and held them against his breast.</p>
+<p>For a moment they stood so, in absolute
+silence.</p>
+<p>Then Myra felt herself completely dominated.
+All fear slipped from her; but the
+assurance which took its place was his courage,
+not hers; and she knew it. Lifting her head,
+she smiled at him, with white lips.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I shall not fall,&#8221; she said.</p>
+<p>Another wave swept round their ankles, and
+remained there.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good,&#8221; said Jim Airth, and loosed her
+wrists. &#8220;We shall owe our lives to each
+other. Next time I look into your face,
+please God, we shall be in safety. Come!&#8221;</p>
+<p>He sprang up the face of the cliff, standing
+in the highest niches he had made.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now follow me, carefully,&#8221; he said;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span>
+&#8220;slowly, and carefully. We are not in a position
+to hurry. Always keep each hand and
+each foot firmly in a niche. Are you there?
+Good!... Now don&#8217;t look either up or
+down, but keep your eyes on my heels.
+Directly I move, come on into the empty
+places. See?... Now then. Can you
+manage?... Good! On we go! After all
+it won&#8217;t take long.... I say, what fun if
+the Miss Murgatroyds peeped over the cliff!
+Amelia would be so shocked at our bare feet.
+Eliza would cry: &#8216;Oh my dear love!&#8217; And
+Susie would promptly fall upon us! Hullo!
+Steady down there! Don&#8217;t laugh too much....
+Fine knife, this. I bought it in Mexico.
+And if the big blade gives out, there are two
+more; also a saw, and a cork-screw.... Mind
+the falling sand does not get into your eyes....
+Tell me if the niches are not deep
+enough, and remember there is no hurry, we
+are not aiming to catch any particular train!
+Steady down there! Don&#8217;t laugh.... Up
+we go! Oh, good! This is a third of the
+way. Don&#8217;t look either up or down. Watch
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span>
+my heels&mdash;I wish they were more worth
+looking at&mdash;and remember the belt is quite
+handy, and I am as firm as a rock up here.
+You and all the Miss Murgatroyds might
+hang on to it together. Steady down there!...
+All right; I won&#8217;t mention them....
+By the way, the water must be fairly deep
+below us now. If you fell, you would merely
+get a ducking. I should slide down and pull
+you out, and we would start afresh....
+Good Lord!... Oh, never mind! Nothing.
+Only, my knife slipped, but I caught it again....
+We must be half way, by now. How
+lucky we have my glissading marks to guide
+us. I can&#8217;t see the ledge from here. Let&#8217;s
+sing &#8216;Nancy Lee.&#8217; I suppose you know it. I
+can always work better to a good rollicking
+tune.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Then, as he drove his blade into the cliff,
+Jim Airth&#8217;s gay voice rang out:</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>&#8220;Of all the wives as e&#8217;er you know,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Yeo ho! lads! ho!</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Yeo ho! Yeo ho!</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>There&#8217;s none like Nancy Lee, I trow,</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span></div>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Yeo ho! lads! ho!</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Yeo ho!</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>See there she stands</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&mdash;Blow! I&#8217;ve struck
+a rock! Not a big one though. Remember
+this step will be slightly more to your right</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>&mdash;and waves her hands,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Upon the quay,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>And ev&#8217;ry day when I&#8217;m away,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>She&#8217;ll watch for me;</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>And whisper low, when tempests blow&mdash;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>Oh, hang these unexpected stones! That&#8217;s
+finished my big blade!</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>&mdash;For Jack at sea,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Yeo ho! lads, ho! Yeo ho!</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>Now the chorus.</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>The sailor&#8217;s wife the sailor&#8217;s star shall be,&mdash;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>Come on! You sing too!&#8221;</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>&#8220;Yeo ho! we go,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Across the sea!&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>came Lady Ingleby&#8217;s voice from below,
+rather faint and quavering.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s right!&#8221; shouted Jim Airth. &#8220;Keep
+it up! I can see the ledge now, just above
+us.</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span></div>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>The bo&#8217;s&#8217;n pipes the watch below,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Yeo ho! lads! ho!</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Yeo ho! Yeo ho!</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Then here&#8217;s a health afore we go,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Yeo ho! lads! ho!</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Yeo ho!</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>A long, long life to my sweet wife,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>And mates at sea</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&mdash;Keep it up down
+there! I have one hand on the ledge&mdash;</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>And keep our bones from Davy Jones</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Where&#8217;er we be!&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>&#8220;And&mdash;keep our bones&mdash;from&mdash;</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Davy Jones&mdash;who e&#8217;er he be,&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>quavered Lady Ingleby, making one final
+effort to move up into the vacant niches,
+though conscious that her fingers and toes
+were so numb that she could not feel them
+grip the sand.</p>
+<p>Then Jim Airth&#8217;s whole body vanished
+suddenly from above her, as he drew himself
+on to the ledge.</p>
+<p>&#8220;<i>Yeo ho! we go</i>!&#8221; Came his gay voice
+from above.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span></p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'><i>&#8220;Yeo ho! Yeo ho!&#8221;</i></p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>sang Lady Ingleby, in a faint whisper.</p>
+<p>She could not move on into the empty
+niches. She could only remain where she
+was, clinging to the face of the cliff.</p>
+<p>She suddenly thought of a fly on a wall;
+and remembered a particular fly, years ago,
+on her nursery wall. She had followed its
+ascent with a small interested finger, and her
+nurse had come by with a duster, and saying:
+&#8220;Nasty thing!&#8221; had ruthlessly flicked it off.
+The fly had fallen&mdash;fallen dead, on the
+nursery carpet.... Lady Ingleby felt she
+too was falling. She gave one agonised glance
+upward to the towering cliff, with the line of
+sky above it. Then everything swayed and
+rocked. &#8220;A mother of soldiers,&#8221; her brain
+insisted, &#8220;must fall without screaming.&#8221; Then&mdash;A
+long arm shot down from above; a
+strong hand gripped her firmly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;One step more,&#8221; said Jim Airth&#8217;s voice,
+close to her ear, &#8220;and I can lift you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She made the effort, and he drew her on to
+the ledge beside him.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Thank you very much,&#8221; said Lady Ingleby.
+&#8220;And who was Davy Jones?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Jim Airth&#8217;s face was streaming with perspiration.
+His mouth was full of sand. His
+heart was beating in his throat. But he loved
+to play the game, and he loved to see another
+do it. So he laughed as he put his arm around
+her, holding her tightly so that she should not
+realise how much she was trembling.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Davy Jones,&#8221; he said, &#8220;is a gentleman
+who has a locker at the bottom of the sea, into
+which all drown&#8217;d things go. I am afraid
+your pretty parasol has gone there, and my
+boots and stockings. But we may well spare
+him those.... Oh, I say!.... Yes, do
+have a good cry. Don&#8217;t mind me. And
+don&#8217;t you think between us we could remember
+some sort of a prayer? For if ever two people
+faced death together, we have faced it; and,
+by God&#8217;s mercy, here we are&mdash;alive.&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XI__TWIXT_SEA_AND_SKY' id='XI__TWIXT_SEA_AND_SKY'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2>
+<h3>&#8217;TWIXT SEA AND SKY</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Myra never forgot Jim Airth&#8217;s prayer.
+Instinctively she knew it to be the first
+time he had voiced his soul&#8217;s thanksgiving or
+petitions in the presence of another. Also
+she realised that, for the first time in her whole
+life, prayer became to her a reality. As she
+crouched on the ledge beside him, shaking
+uncontrollably, so that, but for his arm about
+her, she must have lost her balance and fallen;
+as she heard that strong soul expressing in
+simple unorthodox language its gratitude for
+life and safety, mingled with earnest petition
+for keeping through the night and complete
+deliverance in the morning; it seemed to
+Myra that the heavens opened, and the felt
+presence of God surrounded them in their
+strange isolation.</p>
+<p>An immense peace filled her. By the time
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span>
+those disjointed halting sentences were finished,
+Myra had ceased trembling; and when Jim
+Airth, suddenly at a loss how else to wind up
+his prayer, commenced &#8220;Our Father, Who art
+in heaven,&#8221; Myra&#8217;s sweet voice united with
+his, full of an earnest fervour of petition.</p>
+<p>At the final words, Jim Airth withdrew his
+arm, and a shy silence fell between them.
+The emotion of the mind had awakened an
+awkwardness of body. In that uniting &#8220;<i>Our</i>
+Father,&#8221; their souls had leapt on, beyond
+where their bodies were quite prepared to
+follow.</p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby saved the situation. She
+turned to Jim Airth, with that impulsive
+sweetness which could never be withstood.
+In the rapidly deepening twilight, he could
+just see the large wistful grey eyes, in the
+white oval of her face.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you know,&#8221; she said, &#8220;I really couldn&#8217;t
+possibly sit all night, on a ledge the size of a
+Chesterfield sofa, with a person I had to call
+&#8216;Mr.&#8217; I could only sit there with an old and
+intimate friend, who would naturally call me
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span>
+&#8216;Myra,&#8217; and whom I might call &#8216;Jim.&#8217; Unless
+I may call you &#8216;Jim,&#8217; I shall insist on climbing
+down and swimming home. And if you
+address me as &#8216;Mrs. O&#8217;Mara,&#8217; I shall certainly
+become hysterical, and tumble off!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why of course,&#8221; said Jim Airth. &#8220;I hate
+titles of any kind. I come of an old Quaker
+stock, and plain names with no prefixes
+always seem best to me. And are we not old
+and trusted friends? Was not each of those
+minutes on the face of the cliff, a year? While
+that second which elapsed between the slipping
+of my knife from my right hand and the
+catching of it, against my knee, by my left,
+may go at ten years! Ah, think if it had
+dropped altogether! No, don&#8217;t think. We
+were barely half way up. Now you must
+contrive to put on your shoes and stockings.&#8221;
+He produced them from his pocket. &#8220;And
+then we must find out how to place ourselves
+most comfortably and safely. We have but
+one enemy to fight during the next seven
+hours&mdash;cramp. You must tell me immediately
+if you feel it threatening anywhere, I have
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span>
+done a lot of scouting in my time, and know
+a dodge or two. I also know what it is to
+lie in one position for hours, not daring to
+move a muscle, the cold sweat pouring off my
+face, simply from the agonies of cramp. We
+must guard against that.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Jim,&#8221; said Myra, &#8220;how long shall we have
+to sit here?&#8221;</p>
+<p>He made a quick movement, as if the sound
+of his name from her lips for the first time,
+meant much to him; and there was in his voice
+an added depth of joyousness, as he answered:</p>
+<p>&#8220;It would be impossible to climb from here
+to the top of the cliff. When I came down, I
+had a sheer drop of ten feet. You see the
+cliff slightly overhangs just above us. So far
+as the tide is concerned we might clamber
+down in three hours; but there is no moon,
+and by then, it will be pitch dark. We must
+have light for our descent, if I am to land you
+safe and unshaken at the bottom. Dawn
+should be breaking soon after three. The sun
+rises to-morrow at 3.44; but it will be quite
+light before then. I think we may expect to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span>
+reach the Moorhead Inn by 4 A.M. Let us
+hope Miss Murgatroyd will not be looking out
+of her window, as we stroll up the path.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What are they all thinking now?&#8221; questioned
+Lady Ingleby.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t know, and I don&#8217;t care,&#8221; said Jim
+Airth, gaily. &#8220;You&#8217;re alive, and I&#8217;m alive;
+and we&#8217;ve done a record climb! Nothing else
+matters.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, but seriously, Jim?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, seriously, it is very unlikely that I
+shall be missed at all. I often dine elsewhere,
+and let myself in quite late; or stop out
+altogether. How about you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why, curiously enough,&#8221; said Myra, &#8220;before
+coming out I locked my bedroom door.
+I have the key here. I had left some papers
+lying about&mdash;I am not a very tidy person.
+On the only other occasion upon which I
+locked my door, I omitted dinner altogether,
+and went to bed on returning from my evening
+walk. I am supposed to be doing a &#8216;rest-cure&#8217;
+here. The maid tried my door, went
+away, and did not turn up again until next
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span>
+morning. Most likely she has done the same
+to-night.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then I don&#8217;t suppose they will send out a
+search-party,&#8221; said Jim Airth.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No. We are so alone down here. We
+only matter to ourselves,&#8221; said Myra.</p>
+<p>&#8220;And to each other,&#8221; said Jim Airth,
+quietly.</p>
+<p>Myra&#8217;s heart stood still.</p>
+<p>Those four words, spoken so simply by that
+deep tender voice, meant more to her than
+any words had ever meant. They meant so
+much, that they made for themselves a silence&mdash;a
+vast holy temple of wonder and realisation
+wherein they echoed back and forth,
+repeating themselves again and again.</p>
+<p>The two on the ledge sat listening.</p>
+<p>The chant of mutual possession, so suddenly
+set going, was too beautiful a thing to
+be interrupted by other words.</p>
+<p>Even Lady Ingleby&#8217;s unfailing habit of
+tactful speech was not allowed to spoil the
+deep sweetness of this unexpected situation.
+Myra&#8217;s heart was waking; and when the heart
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span>
+is stirred, the mind sometimes forgets to be
+tactful.</p>
+<p>At length:&mdash;&#8220;Don&#8217;t you remember,&#8221; he said,
+very low, &#8220;what I told you before we began
+to climb? Did I not say, that if we succeeded
+in reaching the ledge safely, we should owe
+our lives to each other? Well, we did; and&mdash;we
+do.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, no,&#8221; cried Myra, impulsively. &#8220;No,
+Jim Airth! You&mdash;glad, and safe, and free&mdash;were
+walking along the top of these cliffs. I,
+in my senseless folly, lay sleeping on the sand
+below, while the tide rose around me. You
+came down into danger to save me, risking
+your life in so doing. I owe you my life, Jim
+Airth; you owe me nothing.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The man beside her turned and looked at
+her, with his quiet whimsical smile.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am not accustomed to have my statements
+amended,&#8221; he said, drily.</p>
+<p>It was growing so dark, they could only
+just discern each other&#8217;s faces.</p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby laughed. She was so unused
+to that kind of remark, that, at
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span>
+the moment she could frame no suitable
+reply.</p>
+<p>Presently:&mdash;&#8220;I suppose I really owe my
+life to my scarlet parasol,&#8221; she said. &#8220;Had
+it not attracted your attention, you would not
+have seen me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Should I not?&#8221; questioned Jim Airth, his
+eyes on the white loveliness of her face.
+&#8220;Since I saw you first, on the afternoon of
+your arrival, have you ever once come within
+my range of vision without my seeing you,
+and taking in every detail?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;On the afternoon of my arrival?&#8221; questioned
+Lady Ingleby, astonished.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&#8221; replied Jim Airth, deliberately.
+&#8220;Seven o&#8217;clock, on the first of June. I stood
+at the smoking-room window, at a loose end of
+all things; sick of myself, dissatisfied with my
+manuscript, tired of fried fish&mdash;don&#8217;t laugh;
+small things, as well as great, go to make up
+the sum of a man&#8217;s depression. Then the
+gate swung back, and YOU&mdash;in golden capitals&mdash;the
+sunlight in your eyes, came up the
+garden path. I judged you to be a woman
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span>
+grown, in years perhaps not far short of my
+own age; I guessed you a woman of the world,
+with a position to fill, and a knowledge of men
+and things. Yet you looked just a lovely
+child, stepping into fairy-land; the joyful
+surprise of unexpected holiday danced in your
+radiant eyes. Since then, the beautiful side
+of life has always been you&mdash;YOU, in golden
+capitals.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Jim Airth paused, and sat silent.</p>
+<p>It was quite dark now.</p>
+<p>Myra slipped her hand into his, which
+closed upon it with a strong unhesitating
+clasp.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Go on, Jim,&#8221; she said, softly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I went out into the hall, and saw your
+name in the visitors&#8217; book. The ink was still
+wet. The handwriting was that of the
+holiday-child&mdash;I should like to set you copies!
+The name surprised me&mdash;agreeably. I had
+expected to be able at once to place the
+woman who had walked up the path. It was
+a surprise and a relief to find that my Fairy-land
+Princess was not after all a fashionable
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span>
+beauty or a society leader, but owned just a
+simple Irish name, and lived at a Lodge.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Go on, Jim,&#8221; said Lady Ingleby, rather
+tremulously.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then the name &#8216;Shenstone&#8217; interested me,
+because I know the Inglebys&mdash;at least, I
+knew Lord Ingleby, well; and I shall soon
+know Lady Ingleby. In fact I have written
+to-day asking for an interview. I must see
+her on business connected with notes of her
+husband&#8217;s which, if she gives permission, are
+to be embodied in my book. I suppose if you
+live near Shenstone Park you know the
+Inglebys?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&#8221; said Myra. &#8220;But tell me, Jim;
+if&mdash;if you noticed so much that first day;
+if you were&mdash;interested; if you wanted to set
+me copies&mdash;yes, I know I write a shocking
+hand;&mdash;why would you never look at me?
+Why were you so stiff and unfriendly? Why
+were you not as nice to me as you were to
+Susie, for instance?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Jim Airth sat long in silence, staring out into
+the darkness. At last he said:
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I want to tell you. Of course, I <i>must</i> tell
+you. But&mdash;may I ask a few questions first?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby also gazed unseeingly into the
+darkness; but she leaned a little nearer to the
+broad shoulder beside her. &#8220;Ask me what
+you will,&#8221; she said. &#8220;There is nothing, in my
+whole life, I would not tell you, Jim Airth.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Her cheek was so close to the rough
+Norfolk jacket, that if it had moved a shade
+nearer, she would have rested against it.
+But it did not move; only, the clasp on her
+hand tightened.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Were you married very young?&#8221; asked
+Jim Airth.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I was not quite eighteen. It is ten years
+ago.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Did you marry for love?&#8221;</p>
+<p>There was a long silence, while both looked
+steadily into the darkness.</p>
+<p>Then Myra answered, speaking very slowly.
+&#8220;To be quite honest, I think I married chiefly
+to escape from a very unhappy home. Also
+I was very young, and knew nothing&mdash;nothing
+of life, and nothing of love; and&mdash;how can I
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span>
+explain, Jim Airth?&mdash;I have not learnt much
+during these ten long years.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Have you been unhappy?&#8221; He asked the
+question very low.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not exactly unhappy. My husband was
+a very good man; kind and patient, beyond
+words, towards me. But I often vaguely
+felt I was missing the Best in life. Now&mdash;I
+know I was.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;How long have you been&mdash;How long has
+he been dead?&#8221; The deep voice was so
+tender, that the question could bring no pain.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Seven months,&#8221; replied Lady Ingleby.
+&#8220;My husband was killed in the assault on
+Targai.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;At Targai!&#8221; exclaimed Jim Airth, surprised
+into betraying his astonishment. Then
+at once recovering himself: &#8220;Ah, yes; of course.
+Seven months. I was there, you know.&#8221;</p>
+<p>But, within himself, he was thinking rapidly,
+and much was becoming clear.</p>
+<p>Sergeant O&#8217;Mara! Was it possible? An
+exquisite refined woman such as this, bearing
+about her the unmistakable hall-mark of
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span>
+high birth and perfect breeding? The Sergeant
+was a fine fellow, and superior&mdash;but, good
+Lord! <i>Her</i> husband! Yet girls of eighteen
+do foolish things, and repent ever after. A
+runaway match from an unhappy home; then
+cast off by her relations, and now left friendless
+and alone. But&mdash;Sergeant O&#8217;Mara! Yet
+no other O&#8217;Mara fell at Targai; and there
+<i>was</i> some link between him and Lord Ingleby.</p>
+<p>Then, into his musing, came Myra&#8217;s soft
+voice, from close beside him, in the darkness:
+&#8220;My husband was always good to me;
+but&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>And Jim Airth laid his other hand over the
+one he held. &#8220;I am sure he was,&#8221; he said,
+gently. &#8220;But if you had been older, and had
+known more of love and life you would have
+done differently. Don&#8217;t try to explain. I
+understand.&#8221;</p>
+<p>And Myra gladly left it at that. It would
+have been so very difficult to explain further,
+without explaining Michael; and all that really
+mattered was, that&mdash;with or without explanation&mdash;Jim
+Airth understood.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;And now&mdash;tell me,&#8221; she suggested, softly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, yes,&#8221; he said, pulling himself together,
+with an effort. &#8220;My experience also misses
+the Best, and likewise covers ten long years.
+But it is a harder one than yours. I married,
+when a boy of twenty-one, a woman, older
+than myself; supremely beautiful. I went
+mad over her loveliness. Nothing seemed to
+count or matter, but that. I knew she was
+not a good woman, but I thought she might
+become so; and even if she didn&#8217;t it made no
+difference. I wanted her. Afterwards I
+found she had laughed at me, all the time.
+Also, there had all the time been another&mdash;an
+older man than I&mdash;who had laughed with
+her. He had not been in a position to marry
+her when I did; but two years later, he came
+into money. Then&mdash;she left me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Jim Airth paused. His voice was hard
+with pain. The night was very black. In
+the dark silence they could hear the rhythmic
+thunder of the waves pounding monotonously
+against the cliff below.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I divorced her, of course; and he married
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span>
+her; but I went abroad, and stayed abroad.
+I never could look upon her as other than my
+wife. She had made a hell of my life; robbed
+me of every illusion; wrecked my ideals;
+imbittered my youth. But I had said, before
+God, that I took her for my wife, until death
+parted us; and, so long as we were both alive,
+what power could free me from that solemn
+oath? It seemed to me that by remaining
+in another hemisphere, I made her second
+marriage less sinful. Often, at first, I was
+tempted to shoot myself, as a means of righting
+this other wrong. But in time I outgrew
+that morbidness, and realised that though
+Love is good, Life is the greatest gift of all.
+To throw it away, voluntarily, is an unpardonable
+sin. The suicide&#8217;s punishment
+should be loss of immortality. Well, I found
+work to do, of all sorts, in America, and elsewhere.
+And a year ago&mdash;she died. I should
+have come straight home, only I was booked
+for that muddle on the frontier they called &#8216;a
+war.&#8217; I got fever after Targai; was invalided
+home; and here I am recruiting and finishing
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span>
+my book. Now you can understand why
+loveliness in a woman, fills me with a sort of panic,
+even while a part of me still leaps up
+instinctively to worship it. I had often said
+to myself that if I ever ventured upon matrimony
+again, it should be a plain face, and a
+noble heart; though all the while I knew I
+should never bring myself really to want the
+plain face. And yet, just as the burnt child
+dreads the fire, I have always tried to look
+away from beauty. Only&mdash;my Fairy-land
+Princess, may I say it?&mdash;days ago I began to
+feel certain that in you&mdash;YOU in golden
+capitals&mdash;the loveliness and the noble heart
+went together. But from the moment when,
+stepping out of the sunset, you walked up the
+garden path, right into my heart, the fact of
+<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>YOU</span>, just being what you are, and being here,
+meant so much to me, that I did not dare let
+it mean more. Somehow I never connected
+you with widowhood; and not until you said
+this evening on the shore: &#8216;I am a soldier&#8217;s
+widow,&#8217; did I know that you were free.&mdash;There!
+Now you have heard all there is to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span>
+hear. I made a bad mistake at the beginning;
+but I hope I am not the sort of chap you
+need mind sitting on a ledge with, and
+calling &#8216;Jim&#8217;.&#8221;</p>
+<p>For answer, Myra&#8217;s cheek came trustfully
+to rest against the sleeve of the rough tweed
+coat. &#8220;Jim,&#8221; she said; &#8220;Oh, Jim!&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>Presently: &#8220;So you know the Inglebys?&#8221;
+remarked Jim Airth.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&#8221; said Myra.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is &#8216;The Lodge&#8217; near Shenstone Park?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The Lodge is <i>in</i> the park. It is not at any
+of the gates.&mdash;I am not a gate-keeper, Jim!&mdash;It
+is a pretty little house, standing by itself,
+just inside the north entrance.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you rent it from them?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Myra hesitated, but only for the fraction
+of a second. &#8220;No; it is my own. Lord
+Ingleby gave it to me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;<i>Lord</i> Ingleby?&#8221; Jim Airth&#8217;s voice sounded
+like knitted brows. &#8220;Why not <i>Lady</i> Ingleby?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It was not hers, to give. All that is hers,
+was his.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I see. Which of them did you know first?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have known Lady Ingleby all my life,&#8221;
+said Myra, truthfully; &#8220;and I have known
+Lord Ingleby since his marriage.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah. Then he became your friend, because
+he married her?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Myra laughed. &#8220;Yes,&#8221; she said. &#8220;I suppose
+so.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What&#8217;s the joke?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Only that it struck me as an amusing way
+of putting it; but it is undoubtedly true.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Have they any children?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Myra&#8217;s voice shook slightly. &#8220;No, none.
+Why do you ask?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, in the campaign, I often shared
+Lord Ingleby&#8217;s tent; and he used to talk in his
+sleep.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;There was one name he often called and
+repeated.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby&#8217;s heart stood still.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes?&#8221; she said, hardly breathing.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It was &#8216;Peter&#8217;,&#8221; continued Jim Airth.
+&#8220;The night before he was killed, he kept
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span>
+turning in his sleep and saying: &#8216;Peter! Hullo,
+little Peter! Come here!&#8217; I thought perhaps
+he had a little son named Peter.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He had no son,&#8221; said Lady Ingleby,
+controlling her voice with effort. &#8220;Peter
+was a dog of which he was very fond. Was
+that the only name he spoke?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The only one I ever heard,&#8221; replied Jim
+Airth.</p>
+<p>Then suddenly Lady Ingleby clasped both
+hands round his arm.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Jim,&#8221; she whispered, brokenly, &#8220;Not once
+have you spoken my name. It was a bargain.
+We were to be old and intimate friends. I
+seem to have been calling you &#8216;Jim&#8217; all my
+life! But you have not yet called me &#8216;Myra,&#8217;
+Let me hear it now, please.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Jim Airth laid his big hand over both of
+hers.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I can&#8217;t,&#8221; he said. &#8220;Hush! I can&#8217;t. Not
+up here&mdash;it means too much. Wait until we
+get back to earth again. Then&mdash;Oh, I say!
+Can&#8217;t you help?&#8221;</p>
+<p>This kind of emotion was an unknown
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span>
+quantity to Lady Ingleby. So was the wild
+beating of her own heart. But she knew the
+situation called for tact, and was not tactful
+speech always her special forte?</p>
+<p>&#8220;Jim,&#8221; she said, &#8220;are you not frightfully
+hungry? I should be; only I had an enormous
+tea before coming out. Would you
+like to hear what I had for tea? No. I am
+afraid it would make you feel worse. I suppose
+dinner at the inn was over, long ago.
+I wonder what variation of fried fish they had,
+and whether Miss Susannah choked over a
+fish-bone, and had to be requested to leave
+the room. Oh, do you remember that evening?
+You looked so dismayed and alarmed, I quite
+thought you were going to the rescue! I
+wonder what time it is?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We can soon tell that,&#8221; said Jim Airth,
+cheerfully. He dived into his pocket, produced
+a matchbox which he had long been
+fingering turn about with his pipe and tobacco-pouch,
+struck a light, and looked at his watch.
+Myra saw the lean brown face, in the weird
+flare of the match. She also saw the horrid
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span>
+depth so close to them, which she had almost
+forgotten. A sense of dizziness came over
+her. She longed to cling to his arm; but
+he had drawn it resolutely away.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Half past ten,&#8221; said Jim Airth. &#8220;Miss
+Murgatroyd has donned her night-cap. Miss
+Eliza has sighed: &#8216;<i>Good-night, summer, good-night,
+good-night</i>,&#8217; at her open lattice; and
+Susie, folding her plump hands, has said:
+&#8216;<i>Now I lay me</i>.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>Myra laughed. &#8220;And they will all be
+listening for you to dump out your big boots,&#8221;
+she said. &#8220;That is always your &#8216;Good-night&#8217;
+to the otherwise silent house.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, really? Does it make a noise?&#8221; said
+Jim Airth, ruefully. &#8220;Never again&mdash;&mdash;?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, but you must,&#8221; said Myra. &#8220;I love&mdash;I
+mean <i>Susie</i> loves the sound, and listens
+for it. Jim, that match reminds me:&mdash;why
+don&#8217;t you smoke? Surely it would
+help the hunger, and be comfortable and
+cheering.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Jim Airth&#8217;s pipe and pouch were out in a
+twinkling.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Sure you don&#8217;t mind? It doesn&#8217;t make
+you sick, or give you a headache?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, I think I like it,&#8221; said Myra. &#8220;In
+fact, I am sure I like it. That is, I like to
+sit beside it. No, I don&#8217;t do it myself.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Another match flared, and again she saw the
+chasm, and the nearness of the edge. She
+bore it until the pipe was drawing well. Then:
+&#8220;Oh, Jim,&#8221; she said, &#8220;I am so sorry; but I
+am afraid I am becoming dizzy. I feel as
+though I must fall over.&#8221; She gave a half sob.</p>
+<p>Jim Airth turned, instantly alert.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nonsense,&#8221; he said, but the sharp word
+sounded tender. &#8220;Four good feet of width are
+as safe as forty. Change your position a bit.&#8221;
+He put his arm around her, and moved her so
+that she leant more completely against the
+cliff at their backs. &#8220;Now forget the edge,&#8221;
+he said, &#8220;and listen. I am going to tell you
+camp yarns, and tales of the Wild West.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Then as they sat on in the darkness, Jim
+Airth smoked and talked, painting vivid
+word-pictures of life and adventure in other
+lands. And Myra listened, absorbed and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span>
+enchanted; every moment realising more fully,
+as he unconsciously revealed it, the manly
+strength and honest simplicity of his big
+nature, with its fun and its fire; its huge
+capacity for enjoyment; its corresponding
+capacity for pain.</p>
+<p>And, as she listened, her heart said: &#8220;Oh,
+my cosmopolitan cowboy! Thank God you
+found no title in the book, to put you off.
+Thank God you found no name which you
+could &#8216;place,&#8217; relegating its poor possessor to
+the ranks of &#8216;society leaders&#8217; in which you
+would have had no share. And, oh! most
+of all, I thank God for the doctor&#8217;s wise
+injunction: &#8216;Leave behind you your own
+identity&#8217;!&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XII_UNDER_THE_MORNING_STAR' id='XII_UNDER_THE_MORNING_STAR'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2>
+<h3>UNDER THE MORNING STAR</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>The night wore on.</p>
+<p>Stars shone in the deep purple sky;
+bright watchful eyes looking down unwearied
+upon the sleeping world.</p>
+<p>The sound of the sea below fell from a roar
+to a murmur, and drew away into the distance.</p>
+<p>It was a warm June night, and very still.</p>
+<p>Jim Airth had moved along the ledge to the
+further end, and sat swinging his legs over the
+edge. His content was so deep and full, that
+ordinary speech seemed impossible; and silence,
+a glad necessity. The prospect of that which
+the future might hold in store, made the ledge
+too narrow to contain him. He sought relief
+in motion, and swung his long legs out into the
+darkness.</p>
+<p>It had not occurred to him to wonder at his
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span>
+companion&#8217;s silence; the reason for his own
+had been so all-sufficient.</p>
+<p>At length he struck a match to see the time;
+then, turning with a smile, held it so that its
+light illumined Myra.</p>
+<p>She knelt upon the ledge, her hands pressed
+against the overhanging cliff, her head turned
+in terror away from it. Her face was ashen in
+its whiteness, and large tears rolled down her
+cheeks.</p>
+<p>Jim dropped the match, with an exclamation,
+and groped towards her in the darkness.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dear!&#8221; he cried, &#8220;Oh, my dear, what is
+the matter? Selfish fool, that I am! I
+thought you were just resting, quiet and
+content.&#8221;</p>
+<p>His groping hands found and held her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Jim,&#8221; sobbed Lady Ingleby, &#8220;I am
+so sorry! It is so weak and unworthy. But
+I am afraid I feel faint. The whole cliff
+seems to rock and move. Every moment I
+fear it will tip me over. And you seemed
+miles away!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You <i>are</i> faint,&#8221; said Jim Airth; &#8220;and no
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span>
+wonder. There is nothing weak or unworthy
+about it. You have been quite splendid. It
+is I who have been a thoughtless ass. But I
+can&#8217;t have you fainting up here. You must
+lie down at once. If I sit on the edge with
+my back to you, can you slip along behind me
+and lie at full length, leaning against the
+cliff?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, oh no, I couldn&#8217;t!&#8221; whispered Myra.
+&#8220;It frightens me so horribly when you hang
+your legs over the edge, and I can&#8217;t bear to
+touch the cliff. It seems worse than the black
+emptiness. It rocks to and fro, and seems to
+push me over. Oh, Jim! What shall I do?
+Help me, help me!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You <i>must</i> lie down,&#8221; said Jim Airth,
+between his teeth. &#8220;Here, wait a minute.
+Move out a little way. Don&#8217;t be afraid.
+I have hold of you. Let me get behind
+you.... That&#8217;s right. Now you are not
+touching the cliff. Let me get my shoulders
+firmly into the hollow at this end, and my
+feet fixed at the other. There! With my
+back rammed into it like this, nothing short
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span>
+of an earthquake could dislodge me. Now
+dear&mdash;turn your back to me and your face
+to the sea and let yourself go. You will not
+fall over. Do not be afraid.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Very gently, but very firmly, he drew her
+into his arms.</p>
+<p>Tired, frightened, faint,&mdash;Lady Ingleby
+was conscious at first of nothing save the
+intense relief of the sense of his great strength
+about her. She seemed to have been fighting
+the cliff and resisting the gaping darkness,
+until she was utterly worn out. Now she
+yielded to his gentle insistence, and sank
+into safety. Her cheek rested against his
+rough coat, and it seemed to her more soothing
+than the softest pillow. With a sigh of content,
+she folded her hands upon her breast,
+and he laid one of his big ones firmly
+over them both. She felt so safe, and
+held.</p>
+<p>Then she heard Jim Airth&#8217;s voice, close to
+her ear.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We are not alone,&#8221; he said. &#8220;You must
+try to sleep, dear; but first I want you to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span>
+realise that we are not alone. Do you know
+what I mean? <i>God is here.</i> When I was a
+very little chap, I used to go to a Dame-school
+in the Highlands; and the old dame made me
+learn by heart the hundred and thirty-ninth
+psalm. I have repeated parts of it in all sorts
+of places of difficulty and danger. I am going
+to say my favourite verses to you now.
+Listen. &#8216;Whither shall I go from Thy Spirit?
+or whither shall I flee from Thy presence?...
+If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell
+in the uttermost parts of the sea; even there
+shall Thy hand lead me, and Thy right hand
+shall hold me. If I say, Surely the darkness
+shall cover me; even the night shall be light
+about me. Yea, the darkness hideth not from
+Thee; but the night shineth as the day: the
+darkness and the light are both alike to Thee.... How
+precious also are Thy thoughts
+unto me, O God! how great is the sum of
+them. If I should count them they are more
+in number than the sand: when I awake I am
+still with Thee.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>The deep voice ceased. Lady Ingleby
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span>
+opened her eyes. &#8220;I was nearly asleep,&#8221;
+she said. &#8220;How good you are, Jim.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, I am not good,&#8221; he answered. &#8220;I&#8217;m
+a tough chap, full of faults, and beset by
+failings. Only&mdash;if you will trust me, please
+God, I will never fail you. But now I want
+you to sleep; and I don&#8217;t want you to think
+about me. I am merely a thing, which by
+God&#8217;s providence is allowed to keep you in
+safety. Do you see that wonderful planet,
+hanging like a lamp in the sky? Watch it,
+while I tell you some lines written by an
+American woman, on the thought of that last
+verse.&#8221;</p>
+<p>And with his cheek against her soft hair, and
+his strong arms firmly round her, Jim Airth
+repeated, slowly, Mrs. Beecher Stowe&#8217;s matchless
+poem:</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>&#8220;Still, still with Thee, when purple morning breaketh,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>When the bird waketh, and the shadows flee;</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Fairer than morning, lovelier than daylight,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Dawns the sweet consciousness&mdash;I am with Thee.</p>
+<br />
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>&#8220;Alone with Thee, amid the mystic shadows,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>The solemn hush of nature newly born;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span></div>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Alone with Thee, in breathless adoration,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>In the calm dew and freshness of the morn.</p>
+<br />
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>&#8220;As in the dawning, o&#8217;er the waveless ocean,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>The image of the morning star doth rest;</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>So in this stillness Thou beholdest only</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Thine image in the waters of my breast.</p>
+<br />
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>&#8220;When sinks the soul, subdued by toil, to slumber</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Its closing eye looks up to Thee in prayer;</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Sweet the repose, beneath Thy wings o&#8217;ershadowing,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>But sweeter still to wake, and find Thee there.</p>
+<br />
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>&#8220;So shall it be at last, in that bright morning</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>When the soul waketh, and life&#8217;s shadows flee;</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Oh, in that hour, fairer than daylight&#8217;s dawning,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Shall rise the glorious thought, I am with Thee!&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>Jim Airth&#8217;s voice ceased. He waited a
+moment in silence.</p>
+<p>Then&mdash;&#8220;Do you like it?&#8221; he asked softly.</p>
+<p>There was no answer. Myra slept as
+peacefully as a little child. He could feel the
+regular motion of her quiet breathing, beneath
+his hand.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thank God!&#8221; said Jim Airth, with his
+eyes on the morning star.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XIII_THE_AWAKENING' id='XIII_THE_AWAKENING'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2>
+<h3>THE AWAKENING</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>When Lady Ingleby opened her eyes, she
+could not, for a moment, imagine where
+she was.</p>
+<p>Dawn was breaking over the sea. A rift
+of silver, in the purple sky, had taken the
+place of the morning star. She could see the
+silvery gleam reflected in the ocean.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why am I sleeping so close to a large
+window?&#8221; queried her bewildered mind. &#8220;Or
+am I on a balcony?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why do I feel so extraordinarily strong
+and rested?&#8221; questioned her slowly awakening
+body.</p>
+<p>She lay quite still and considered the matter.</p>
+<p>Then looking down, she saw a large brown
+hand clasping both hers. Her head was
+resting in the curve of the arm to which the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span>
+hand belonged. A strong right arm was
+flung over and around her. All questionings
+were solved by two short words: &#8220;Jim Airth.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby lay very still. She feared to
+break the deep spell of restfulness which held
+her. She hesitated to bring down to earth the
+exquisite sense of heaven, by which she was
+surrounded.</p>
+<p>As the dawn broke over the sea, a wonderful
+light dawned in her eyes, a radiance such as
+had never shone in those sweet eyes before.
+&#8220;Dear God,&#8221; she whispered, &#8220;am I to know
+the Best?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Then she gently withdrew one hand, and
+laid it on the hand which had covered both.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Jim,&#8221; she said. &#8220;Jim! Look! It is day.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes?&#8221; came Jim Airth&#8217;s voice from behind
+her. &#8220;Yes? <i>What?</i> <span style='font-variant: small-caps'>come in</span>!&mdash;Hullo! Oh, I
+say!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Myra smiled into the dawning. She had
+already come through those first moments
+of astonished realisation. But Jim Airth
+awoke to the situation more quickly than she
+had done.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Hullo!&#8221; he said. &#8220;I meant to keep watch
+all the time; but I must have slept. Are you
+all right? Sure? No cramp? Well, I have a
+cramp in my left leg which will make me kick
+down the cliff in another minute, if I don&#8217;t
+move it. Let me help you up.... That&#8217;s
+the way. Now you sit safely there, while I
+get unwedged.... By Jove! I believe I&#8217;ve
+grown into the cliff, like a fossil ichthyosaurus.
+Did you ever see an ichthyosaurus? Doesn&#8217;t
+it seem years since you said: &#8216;And who is Davy
+Jones?&#8217; Don&#8217;t you want some breakfast?
+I suppose it&#8217;s about time we went home.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Talking gaily all the time, Jim Airth drew
+up his long limbs, rubbing them vigorously;
+stretched his arms above his head; then passed
+his hand over his tumbled hair.</p>
+<p>&#8220;My wig!&#8221; he said. &#8220;What a morning!
+And how good to be alive!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Myra stole a look at him. His eyes were
+turned seaward. The same dawn-light was
+in them, as shone in her own.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t you want breakfast?&#8221; said Jim
+Airth, and pulled out his watch.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I do,&#8221; said Myra, gaily. &#8220;And now I
+can venture to tell you what delicious home-made
+bread I had for tea. What time is it,
+Jim?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Half past three. In a few minutes the
+sun will rise. Watch! Did you ever before
+see the dawn? Is it not wonderful? Always
+more of pearl and silver than at sunset. Look
+how the narrow rift has widened and spread
+right across the sky. The Monarch of Day is
+coming! See the little herald clouds, in livery
+of pink and gold. Now watch where the sea
+looks brightest. Ah!... There is the tip
+of his blood-red rim, rising out of the ocean.
+And how quickly the whole ball appears.
+Now see the rippling path of gold and
+crimson, a royal highway on the waters,
+right from the shore below us, to the
+footstool of his brilliant Majesty.... A
+new day has begun; and we have not said
+&#8216;Good-morning.&#8217; Why should we? We did
+not say &#8216;Good-night.&#8217; How ideal it would be,
+never to say &#8216;Good-morning&#8217;; and never to say
+&#8216;Good-night.&#8217; The night would be always
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span>
+&#8216;good&#8217;, and so would the morning. All life
+would be one grand crescendo of good&mdash;better&mdash;best.
+What? Have we found the
+Best? Ah, hush! I did not mean to say that
+yet.... Are you ready for the climb
+down? No, I can&#8217;t allow any peeping over,
+and considering. If you really feel afraid
+of it, I will run to Tregarth as quickly as
+possible, rouse the sleeping village, bring ropes
+and men, and haul you up from the top.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I absolutely decline to be &#8216;hauled up from
+the top,&#8217; or to be left here alone,&#8221; declared
+Lady Ingleby.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then the sooner we start down, the better,&#8221;
+said Jim Airth. &#8220;I&#8217;m going first.&#8221; He was
+over the edge before Myra could open her lips
+to expostulate. &#8220;Now turn round. Hold on
+to the ledge firmly with your hands, and give
+me your feet. Do you hear? Do as I tell
+you. Don&#8217;t hesitate. It is less steep than
+it seemed yesterday. We are quite safe.
+Come on!... That&#8217;s right.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Then Lady Ingleby passed through a most
+terrifying five minutes, while she yielded in
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span>
+blind obedience to the strong hands beneath
+her, and the big voice which encouraged and
+threatened alternately.</p>
+<p>But when the descent was over and she
+stood on the shore beside Jim Airth; when
+together they turned and looked in silence up
+the path of glory on the rippling waters, to
+the blazing beauty of the rising sun, thankful
+tears rushed to Lady Ingleby&#8217;s eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Jim,&#8221; she exclaimed, &#8220;God is good!
+It is so wonderful to be alive!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Then Jim Airth turned, his face transfigured,
+the sunlight in his eyes, and opened his arms.
+&#8220;Myra,&#8221; he said. &#8220;We have found the
+Best.&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>They walked along the shore, and up the
+steep street of the sleeping village, hand in
+hand like happy children.</p>
+<p>Arrived at the Moorhead Inn, they pushed
+open the garden gate, and stepped noiselessly
+across the sunlit lawn.</p>
+<p>The front door was firmly bolted. Jim
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span>
+Airth slipped round to the back, but returned
+in a minute shaking his head. Then
+he felt in his pocket for the big knife
+which had served them so well; pushed back
+the catch of the coffee-room window; softly
+raised the sash; swung one leg over, and
+drew Myra in after him.</p>
+<p>Once in the familiar room, with its mustard-pots
+and salt-cellars, its table-cloths, left on
+in readiness for breakfast, they both lapsed
+into fits of uncontrollable laughter; laughter
+the more overwhelming, because it had to be
+silent.</p>
+<p>Jim, recovering first, went off to the larder
+to forage for food.</p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby flew noiselessly up to her
+room to wash her hands, and smooth her hair.
+She returned in two minutes to find Jim,
+very proud of his success, setting out a crusty
+home-made loaf, a large cheese, and a foaming
+tankard of ale.</p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby longed for tea, and had never
+in her life drunk ale out of a pewter pot.
+But not for worlds would she have spoiled
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span>
+Jim Airth&#8217;s boyish delight in the success of
+his raid on the larder.</p>
+<p>So they sat at the centre table, Myra in
+Miss Murgatroyd&#8217;s place, and Jim in Susie&#8217;s,
+and consumed their bread-and-cheese, and
+drank their beer, with huge appetites and
+prodigious enjoyment. And Jim used Miss
+Susannah&#8217;s napkin, and pretended to be
+sentimental over it. And Myra reproved him,
+after the manner of Miss Murgatroyd reproving
+Susie. After which they simultaneously
+exclaimed: &#8220;Oh, my dear love!&#8221; in Miss
+Eliza&#8217;s most affecting manner; then linked
+fingers for a wish, and could neither of them
+think of one.</p>
+<p>By the time they had finished, and cleared
+away, it was half past five. They passed into
+the hall together.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You must get some more sleep,&#8221; said Jim
+Airth, authoritatively.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I will, if you wish it,&#8221; whispered Myra;
+&#8220;but I never, in my whole life, felt so strong
+or so rested. Jim, I shall sit at your table,
+and pour out your coffee at breakfast. Let&#8217;s
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span>
+aim to have it at nine, as usual. It will be
+such fun to watch the Murgatroyds, and to
+remember our cheese and beer. If you are
+down first, order our breakfasts at the same
+table.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;All right,&#8221; said Jim Airth.</p>
+<p>Myra commenced mounting the stairs,
+but turned on the fifth step and hung over the
+banisters to smile at him.</p>
+<p>Jim Airth reached up his hand. &#8220;How can
+I let you go?&#8221; he exclaimed suddenly.</p>
+<p>Myra leaned over, and smiled into his
+adoring eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How can I go?&#8221; she whispered, tenderly.</p>
+<p>Jim Airth took both her hands in his. His
+eyes blazed up into hers.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Myra,&#8221; he said, &#8220;when shall we be
+married?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Myra&#8217;s face flamed, just as the soft white
+clouds had flamed when the sun arose.
+But she met the fire of his eyes without
+flinching.</p>
+<p>&#8220;When you will, Jim,&#8221; she answered
+gently.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;As soon as possible, then,&#8221; said Jim
+Airth, eagerly.</p>
+<p>Myra withdrew her hands, and mounted
+two more steps; then turned to bend and
+whisper: &#8220;Why?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Because,&#8221; replied Jim Airth, &#8220;I do not
+know how to bear that there should be a day,
+or an hour, or a minute, when we cannot be
+together.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, do you feel that, too?&#8221; whispered
+Myra.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Too?&#8221; cried Jim Airth. &#8220;Do <i>you</i>&mdash;Myra!
+Come back!&#8221;</p>
+<p>But Lady Ingleby fled up the stairs like a
+hare. She had not run so fast since she was
+a little child of ten. He heard her happy
+laugh, and the closing of her door.</p>
+<p>Then he unbarred the front entrance; and
+stepping out, stood in the sunshine, on the
+path where he had seen his Fairy-land Princess
+arrive.</p>
+<p>He stretched his arms over his head.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mine!&#8221; he said. &#8220;Mine, altogether! Oh,
+my God! At last, I have won the Highest!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span></p>
+<p>Then he raced down the street to the beach;
+and five minutes later, in the full strength of
+his vigorous manhood, he was swimming up
+the golden path, towards the rising sun.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XIV_GOLDEN_DAYS' id='XIV_GOLDEN_DAYS'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
+<h3>GOLDEN DAYS</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>The week which followed was one of ideal
+joy and holiday. Both knew, instinctively,
+that no after days could ever be quite
+as these first days. They were an experience
+which came not again, and must be realised
+and enjoyed with whole-hearted completeness.</p>
+<p>At first Jim Airth talked with determination
+of a special licence, and pleaded for no delay.
+But Lady Ingleby, usually vague to a degree
+on all questions of law or matters of business,
+fortunately felt doubtful as to whether it
+would be wise to be married in a name other
+than her own; and, though she might have
+solved the difficulty by at once revealing her
+identity to Jim Airth, she was anxious to
+choose her own time and place for this revelation,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span>
+and had set her heart upon making it
+amid the surroundings of her own beautiful
+home at Shenstone.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You see, Jim,&#8221; she urged, &#8220;I <i>have</i> a few
+friends in town and at Shenstone, who take
+an interest in my doings; and I could hardly
+reappear among them married! Could I,
+Jim? It would seem such an unusual and
+unexpected termination to a rest-cure.
+Wouldn&#8217;t it, Jim?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Jim Airth&#8217;s big laugh brought Miss Susie
+to the window. It caused sad waste of
+Susannah&#8217;s time, that her window looked out
+on the honeysuckle arbour.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It might make quite a run on rest-cures,&#8221;
+said Jim Airth.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, but they couldn&#8217;t all meet <i>you</i>,&#8221;
+said Myra; and the look he received from those
+sweet eyes, atoned for the vague inaccuracy
+of the rejoinder.</p>
+<p>So they agreed to have one week of this free
+untrammelled life, before returning to the
+world of those who knew them; and he promised
+to come and see her in her own home,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span>
+before taking the final steps which should make
+her altogether his.</p>
+<p>So they went gay walks along the cliffs in
+the breezy sunshine; and Myra, clinging to
+Jim&#8217;s arm, looked down from above upon
+their ledge.</p>
+<p>They revisited Horseshoe Cove at low
+water, and Jim Airth spent hours cutting the
+hurried niches into proper steps, so as to leave
+a staircase to the ledge, up which people, who
+chanced in future to be caught by the tide,
+might climb to safety. Myra sat on the beach
+and watched him, her eyes alight with tender
+memories; but she absolutely refused to mount
+again.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, Jim,&#8221; she said; &#8220;not until we come
+here on our honeymoon. Then, if you wish,
+you shall take your wife back to the place
+where we passed those wonderful hours. But
+not now.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Jim, who expected always to have his own
+way, unless he was given excellent reasons in
+black and white for not having it, was about
+to expostulate and insist, when he saw tears
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span>
+on her lashes and a quiver of the sweet smiling
+lips, and gave in at once without further
+question.</p>
+<p>They hired a tent, and pitched it on the
+shore at Tregarth, Myra telegraphed for a
+bathing-dress, and Jim went into the sea in
+his flannels and tried to teach her to swim,
+holding her up beneath her chin and saying;
+&#8220;One, two! <span style='font-variant: small-caps'>ONE, TWO</span>!&#8221; far louder than Myra
+had ever had it said to her before. Thus,
+amid much splashing and laughter, Lady
+Ingleby accomplished her swim of ten yards.</p>
+<p>Miss Murgatroyd was shocked; nay,
+more than shocked. Miss Murgatroyd was
+scandalised! She took to her bed forthwith,
+expecting Miss Eliza and Miss Susannah to
+follow her example&mdash;in the spirit, if not to the
+letter. But, released from Amelia&#8217;s personal
+supervision, romantic little Susie led Eliza
+astray; and the two took a furtive and fearful
+joy in seeing all they could of the &#8220;goings on&#8221;
+of the couple who had boldly converted the
+prosaic Cornish hotel into a land of excitement
+and romance.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span></p>
+<p>From the moment when on the morning
+after their adventure, Myra, with yellow roses
+in the belt of her white gown, had swept into
+the coffee-room at five minutes past nine,
+saying: &#8220;My dear Jim, have I kept you
+waiting? I hope the coffee is not cold?&#8221;&mdash;all
+life had seemed transformed to Miss
+Susie. Turning quickly, she had caught the
+look Jim Airth gave to the lovely woman who
+took her place opposite him at his hitherto
+lonely table, and, still smiling into his eyes,
+lifted the coffee-pot.</p>
+<p>Amelia&#8217;s stern whisper had recalled her to
+her senses, and prevented any further glancing
+round; but she had heard Myra say: &#8220;I forgot
+your sugar, Jim. One lump, or two?&#8221; and
+Jim Airth&#8217;s reply: &#8220;As usual, thanks, dear,&#8221;
+not knowing, that with a silent twinkle of
+fun, he laid an envelope over his cup, as a
+sign to Myra, waiting with poised sugar-tongs,
+that &#8220;as usual&#8221; meant no sugar at all!</p>
+<p>Later on, when she one day met Lady
+Ingleby alone in a passage, Miss Susannah
+ventured two hurried questions.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, tell me, my dear! Is it <i>really</i> true
+that you are going to marry Mr. Airth? And
+have you known him long?&#8221;</p>
+<p>And Myra smiling down into Susie&#8217;s plump
+anxious face replied: &#8220;Well, as a matter of
+fact, Miss Susannah, Jim Airth is going to
+marry <i>me</i>. And I cannot explain how long
+I have known him. I seem to have known
+him all my life.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah,&#8221; whispered Miss Susannah with a
+knowing smile of conscious perspicacity;
+&#8220;Eliza and I felt sure it was a tiff.&#8221;</p>
+<p>This remark appeared absolutely incomprehensible
+to Lady Ingleby; and not until
+she had repeated it to Jim, and he had shouted
+with laughter, and called her a bare-faced
+deceiver, did she realise that the &#8220;tiff&#8221; was
+supposed to have been operative during the
+whole time she and Jim Airth had sat at
+separate tables, and showed no signs of
+acquaintance.</p>
+<p>However, she smiled kindly into the archly
+nodding face. Then, in the consciousness
+of her own great happiness, enveloped little
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span>
+Susie in her beautiful arms, and kissed
+her.</p>
+<p>Miss Susannah never forgot that embrace.
+It was to her a reflected realisation of what it
+must be to be loved by Jim Airth. And,
+thereafter, whenever Miss Murgatroyd saw
+fit to use such adjectives as &#8220;indecent,&#8221;
+&#8220;questionable,&#8221; or &#8220;highly improper,&#8221; Miss
+Susie bravely gathered up her wool-work,
+and left the room.</p>
+<p>Thus the golden days went by, and a letter
+came for Jim Airth from Lady Ingleby&#8217;s
+secretary. Her ladyship was away at present
+but would be returning to Shenstone on the
+following Monday, and would be pleased to
+give him an interview on Tuesday afternoon.
+The two o&#8217;clock express from Charing Cross
+would be met at Shenstone station, unless he
+wrote suggesting another.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now that is very civil,&#8221; said Jim to Myra,
+as he passed her the letter, &#8220;and how well it
+suits our plans. We had already arranged
+both to go up to town on Monday, and you on
+to Shenstone. So I can come down by that
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span>
+two o&#8217;clock train on Tuesday, get my interview
+with Lady Ingleby over as quickly as may be,
+and dash off to my girl at the Lodge. I hope
+to goodness she won&#8217;t want to give me tea!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Which &#8216;she&#8217;?&#8221; asked Myra, smiling. &#8220;<i>I</i>
+shall certainly want to give you tea.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then I shall decline Lady Ingleby&#8217;s,&#8221;
+said Jim with decision.</p>
+<p>Even during those wonderful days he went
+on steadily with his book, Myra sitting near
+him in the smoking-room, writing letters or
+reading, while he worked. &#8220;I do better work
+if you are within reach, or at all events, within
+sight,&#8221; Jim had said; and it was impossible
+that Lady Ingleby&#8217;s mind should not have
+contrasted the thrill of pleasure this gave her,
+with the old sense of being in the way if work
+was to be done; and of being shut out from the
+chief interests of Michael&#8217;s life, by the closing
+of the laboratory door. Ah, how different
+from the way in which Jim already made her
+a part of himself, enfolding her into his every
+interest.</p>
+<p>She wrote fully of her happiness to Mrs.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span>
+Dalmain, telling her in detail the unusual
+happenings which had brought it so rapidly
+to pass. Also a few lines to her old friend the
+Duchess of Meldrum, merely announcing the
+fact of her engagement and the date of her
+return to Shenstone, promising full particulars
+later. This letter held also a message for
+Ronald and Billy, should they chance to be at
+Overdene.</p>
+<p>Sunday evening, their last at Tregarth,
+came all too soon. They went to the little
+church together, sitting among the simple
+fisher folk at Evensong. As they looked over
+one hymn book, and sang &#8220;Eternal Father,
+strong to save,&#8221; both thought of &#8220;Davy
+Jones&#8221; in the middle of the hymn, and had to
+exchange a smile; yet with an instant added
+reverence of petition and thanksgiving.</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>&#8220;Thus evermore, shall rise to Thee,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Glad hymns of praise from land and sea.&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>Jim Airth&#8217;s big bass boomed through the
+little church; and Myra, close to his shoulder,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span>
+sang with a face so radiant that none could
+doubt the reality of her praise.</p>
+<p>Then back to a cold supper at the Moorhead
+Inn; after which they strolled out to the
+honeysuckle arbour for Jim&#8217;s evening pipe,
+and a last quiet talk.</p>
+<p>It was then that Jim Airth said, suddenly:
+&#8220;By the way I wish you would tell me more
+about Lady Ingleby. What kind of a woman
+is she? Easy to talk to?&#8221;</p>
+<p>For a moment Myra was taken aback.
+&#8220;Why, Jim&mdash;I hardly know. Easy?
+Yes, I think <i>you</i> will find her easy to talk
+to.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Does she speak of her husband&#8217;s death,
+or is it a tabooed subject?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;She speaks of it,&#8221; said Myra, softly,
+&#8220;to those who can understand.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah! Do you suppose she will like to hear
+details of those last days?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Possibly; if you feel inclined to give them,
+Jim&mdash;do you know who did it?&#8221;</p>
+<p>A surprised silence in the arbour. Jim
+removed his pipe, and looked at her.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Do I know&mdash;who&mdash;did&mdash;what?&#8221; he asked
+slowly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you know the name of the man who
+made the mistake which killed Lord Ingleby?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Jim returned his pipe to his mouth.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, dear, I do,&#8221; he said, quietly. &#8220;But
+how came you to know of the blunder? I
+thought the whole thing was hushed up, at
+home.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It was,&#8221; said Myra; &#8220;but Lady Ingleby
+was told, and I heard it then. Jim, if she
+asked you the name, should you tell her?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Certainly I should,&#8221; replied Jim Airth.
+&#8220;I was strongly opposed, from the first, to
+any mystery being made about it. I hate a
+hushing-up policy. But there was the fellow&#8217;s
+future to consider. The world never lets a
+thing of that sort drop. He would always
+have been pointed out as &#8216;The chap who killed
+Ingleby&#8217;&mdash;just as if he had done it on purpose;
+and every man of us knew that would be a
+millstone round the neck of any career. And
+then the whole business had been somewhat
+irregular; and &#8216;the powers that be&#8217; have a
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span>
+way of taking all the kudos, if experiments are
+successful; and making a what-on-earth-were-you-dreaming-of
+row, if they chance to be a
+failure. Hence the fact that we are all such
+stick-in-the-muds, in the service. Nobody
+dares be original. The risks are too great,
+and too astonishingly unequal. If you succeed,
+you get a D.S.O. from a grateful
+government, and a laurel crown from an
+admiring nation. If you fail, an indignant
+populace derides your name, and a pained and
+astonished government claps you into jail.
+That&#8217;s not the way to encourage progress,
+or make fellows prompt to take the initiative.
+The right or the wrong of an action should not
+be determined by its success or failure.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby&#8217;s mind had paused at the
+beginning of Jim&#8217;s tirade.</p>
+<p>&#8220;They could not have taken Michael&#8217;s
+kudos,&#8221; she said. &#8220;It must have been
+patented. He was always most careful to
+patent all his inventions.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Eh, what?&#8221; said Jim Airth. &#8220;Oh, I see.
+&#8216;Kudos,&#8217; my dear girl, means &#8216;glory&#8217;; not a
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span>
+new kind of explosive. And why do you call
+Lord Ingleby &#8216;Michael&#8217;?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I knew him intimately,&#8221; said Lady
+Ingleby.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I see. Well, as I was saying, I protested
+about the hushing up, but was talked over;
+and the few who knew the facts pledged their
+word of honour to keep silence. Only, the
+name was to be given to Lady Ingleby, if she
+desired to know it; and some of us thought
+you might as well put it in <i>The Times</i> at
+once, as tell a woman. Then we heard she had
+decided not to know.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What do you think of her decision?&#8221;
+asked Lady Ingleby.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I think it proved her to be a very just-minded
+woman, and a very unusual one, if
+she keeps to it. But it would be rather like a
+woman, to make a fine decision such as that
+during the tension of a supreme moment, and
+then indulge in private speculation afterwards.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Did you hear her reason, Jim? She
+said she did not wish that a man should
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span>
+walk this earth, whose hand she could not
+bring herself to touch in friendship.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Poor loyal soul!&#8221; said Jim Airth, greatly
+moved. &#8220;Myra, if <i>I</i> got accidentally done for,
+as Ingleby was,&mdash;should <i>you</i> feel so, for my
+sake?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No!&#8221; cried Myra, passionately. &#8220;If I
+lost <i>you</i>, my belovèd, I should never want to
+touch any other man&#8217;s hand, in friendship or
+otherwise, as long as I lived!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah,&#8221; mused Jim Airth. &#8220;Then you don&#8217;t
+consider Lady Ingleby&#8217;s reason for her decision
+proved a love such as ours?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Myra laid her beautiful head against his
+shoulder.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Jim,&#8221; she said, brokenly, &#8220;I do not feel
+myself competent to discuss any other love.
+One thing only is clear to me;&mdash;I never
+realised what love meant, until I knew <i>you</i>.&#8221;</p>
+<p>A long silence in the honeysuckle arbour.</p>
+<p>Then Jim Airth cried almost fiercely to the
+woman in his arms: &#8220;Can you really think
+you have been right to keep me waiting, even
+for a day?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span></p>
+<p>And she who loved him with a love beyond
+expression could frame no words in answer
+to that question. Thus it came to pass that,
+in the days to come, it was there, unanswered;
+ready to return and beat upon her brain with
+merciless reiteration: &#8220;Was I right to keep
+him waiting, even for a day.&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>In the hall, beside the marble table, where
+lay the visitors&#8217; book, they paused to say
+good-night. From the first, Myra had never
+allowed him up the stairs until her door was
+closed. &#8220;If you don&#8217;t keep the rules I think
+it right to make, Jim,&#8221; she had said, with her
+little tender smile, &#8220;I shall, in self-defence,
+engage Miss Murgatroyd as chaperon; and
+what sort of a time would you have then?&#8221;</p>
+<p>So Jim was pledged to remain below until
+her door had been shut five minutes. After
+which he used to tramp up the stairs whistling:</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>&#8220;A long long life, to my sweet wife,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>And mates at sea;</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>And keep our bones from Davy Jones,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Where&#8217;er we be.</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>And may you meet a mate as sweet&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span></div>
+<p>Then his door would bang, and Myra
+would venture to give vent to her suppressed
+laughter, and to sing a soft little</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>&#8220;Yeo ho! we go!&mdash;Yeo ho! Yeo ho!&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>for sheer overflowing happiness.</p>
+<p>But this was the last evening. A parting
+impended. Also there had been tense moments
+in the honeysuckle arbour.</p>
+<p>Jim&#8217;s blue eyes were mutinous. He stood
+holding her hands against his breast, as he had
+done in Horseshoe Cove, when the waves
+swept round their feet, and he had cried:
+&#8220;You <i>must</i> climb!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;So to-morrow night,&#8221; he said, &#8220;you will
+be at the Lodge, Shenstone; and I, at my Club
+in town. Do you know how hard it is to be
+away from you, even for an hour? Do you
+realise that if you had not been so obstinate
+we never need have been parted at all? We
+could have gone away from here, husband and
+wife together. If you had really cared, you
+wouldn&#8217;t have wanted to wait.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Myra smiled up into his angry eyes.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Jim,&#8221; she whispered, &#8220;it is <i>so</i> silly to say:
+&#8216;<i>If</i> you had really cared&#8217;; because you know,
+perfectly well, that I care for you, more
+than any woman in the world has ever cared
+for any man before! And I do assure you,
+Jim, that you couldn&#8217;t have married me
+<i>validly</i> from here&mdash;and think how awful it
+would be, to love as much as we love and then
+find out that we were not <i>validly</i> married&mdash;and
+when you come to my home, and fetch
+me away from there, you will admit&mdash;yes
+really <i>admit</i>&mdash;that I was right. You will
+have to apologise humbly for having said
+&#8216;Bosh!&#8217; so often. Jim&mdash;dearest! Look at
+the clock! I <i>must</i> go. Poor Miss Murgatroyd
+will grow so tired of listening for us. She
+always leaves her door a crack open. So
+does Miss Susannah. They have all taken to
+sleeping with their doors ajar. I deftly led
+the conversation round to riddles yesterday,
+when I was alone with them for a few minutes,
+and asked sternly: &#8216;When is a door, not a
+door?&#8217; They all answered: &#8216;When it is a jar!&#8217;
+quite unabashed; and Miss Eliza asked another!
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span>
+I believe Susie stands at her crack, in
+the darkness, in hopes of seeing you march by....
+No, don&#8217;t say naughty words. They are
+dears, all three of them; and we shall miss them
+horribly to-morrow. Oh, Jim&mdash;I&#8217;ve just had
+such a brilliant idea! I shall ask them to be
+my bridesmaids! Can&#8217;t you see them following
+me up the aisle? It would be worse than
+the duchess giving Jane away. Ah, you don&#8217;t
+know that story? I will tell it you, some day.
+Jim, say &#8216;Good-night&#8217; quickly, and let me go.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Once,&#8221; said Jim Airth, tightening his grasp
+on her wrists&mdash;&#8220;once, Myra, we said no
+&#8216;good-night,&#8217; and no &#8216;good-morning.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Jim, darling!&#8221; said Myra, gently; &#8220;on that
+night, before I went to sleep, you said to me:
+&#8216;We are not alone. <i>God is here</i>.&#8217; And then
+you repeated part of the hundred and thirty-ninth
+psalm. And, Jim&mdash;I thought you the
+best and strongest man I had ever known; and
+I felt that, all my life, I should trust you, as I
+trusted my God.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Jim Airth loosed the hands he had held so
+tightly, and kissed them very gently. &#8220;Good-night,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span>
+my sweetheart,&#8221; he said, &#8220;and God
+bless you!&#8221; Then he turned away to the
+marble table.</p>
+<p>Myra ran swiftly up the stairs and closed
+her door.</p>
+<p>Then she knelt beside her bed, and sobbed
+uncontrollably; partly for joy, and partly for
+sorrow. The unanswered question commenced
+its reiteration: &#8220;Ah, was I right to
+keep him waiting?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Presently she lifted her head, held her
+breath, and stared into the darkness. A
+vision seemed to pass across her room. A
+tall, bearded man, in evening clothes. In his
+arms a tiny dog, peeping at her through its
+curls, as if to say: &#8220;<i>I</i> have the better place.
+Where do <i>you</i> come in?&#8221; The tall man
+turned at the door. &#8220;Good-night, my dear
+Myra,&#8221; he said, kindly.</p>
+<p>The vision passed.</p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby buried her face in the bedclothes.
+&#8220;That&mdash;for ten long years!&#8221; she
+said. Then, in the darkness, she saw the
+mutinous fire of Jim Airth&#8217;s blue eyes, and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span>
+felt the grip of his strong hands on hers.
+&#8220;How can I say &#8216;Good-night&#8217;?&#8221; protested his
+deep voice, passionately. And, with a rush
+of happy tears, Myra clasped her hands,
+whispering: &#8220;Dear God, am I at last to know
+the Best?&#8221;</p>
+<p>And up the stairs came Jim Airth, whistling
+like a nightingale. But, as a concession to
+Miss Murgatroyd&#8217;s ideas concerning suitable
+Sabbath music, he discarded &#8220;Nancy Lee,&#8221;
+and whistled:</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>&#8220;Eternal Father, strong to save,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Whose arm hath bound the restless wave;</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Who bidst the mighty ocean deep,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Its own appointed limits keep,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>O hear us, when we cry to Thee&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>And, kneeling beside her bed, in the darkness,
+Myra made of it her evening prayer.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XV__WHERE_IS_LADY_INGLEBY' id='XV__WHERE_IS_LADY_INGLEBY'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2>
+<h3>&#8220;WHERE IS LADY INGLEBY?&#8221;</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>When Jim Airth left the train on the following
+Tuesday afternoon, he looked
+eagerly up and down the platform, hoping to
+see Myra. True, they had particularly arranged
+not to meet, until after his interview
+with Lady Ingleby. But Myra was so charmingly
+inconsequent and impulsive in her
+actions. It would be quite like her to reverse
+the whole plan they had made; and, if her
+desire to see him, in any measure resembled
+his huge hunger for a sight of her, he could
+easily understand such a reversal.</p>
+<p>However, Myra was not there; and with a
+heavy sense of unreasonable disappointment,
+Jim Airth chucked his ticket to a waiting
+porter, passed through the little station, and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span>
+found a smart turn-out, with tandem ponies,
+waiting outside.</p>
+<p>The groom at the leader&#8217;s head touched his
+hat.</p>
+<p>&#8220;For Shenstone Park, sir?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&#8221; said Jim Airth, and climbed
+in.</p>
+<p>The groom touched his hat again. &#8220;Her
+ladyship said, sir, that perhaps you might
+like to drive the ponies yourself, sir.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, thank you,&#8221; said Jim Airth, shortly.
+&#8220;I never drive other people&#8217;s ponies.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The groom&#8217;s comprehending grin was immediately
+suppressed. He touched his hat
+again; gathered up the reins, mounted the
+driver&#8217;s seat, flicked the leader, and the
+perfectly matched ponies swung at once into
+a fast trot.</p>
+<p>Jim Airth, a connoisseur in horse-flesh, eyed
+them with approval. They flew along the
+narrow Surrey lanes, between masses of wild
+roses and clematis. The villagers were working
+in the hayfields, shouting gaily to one
+another as they tossed the hay. It was a
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span>
+matchless June day, in a perfect English
+summer.</p>
+<p>Jim Airth&#8217;s disappointment at Myra&#8217;s non-appearance,
+was lifting rapidly in the enjoyment
+of the drive. After all it was best to
+adhere to plans once made; and every step of
+these jolly little tapping hoofs was bringing
+him nearer to the Lodge. Perhaps she would
+be at the window. (He had particularly told
+her <i>not</i> to be!)</p>
+<p>&#8220;These ponies have been well handled,&#8221;
+he remarked approvingly to the groom, as
+they flew round a bend.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, sir,&#8221; said the groom, with the inevitable
+movement towards his hat, whip
+and hand going up together. &#8220;Her ladyship
+always drives them herself, sir. Fine
+whip, her ladyship, sir.&#8221;</p>
+<p>This item of information surprised Jim
+Airth. Judging by Lord Ingleby&#8217;s age and
+appearance, he had expected to find Lady
+Ingleby a sedate and stately matron of sixty.
+It was somewhat surprising to hear of her
+as a fine whip.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span></p>
+<p>However, he had no time to weigh the
+matter further. Passing an ivy-clad church
+on the village green, they swung through
+massive iron gates, of very fine design, and
+entered the stately avenue of Shenstone
+Park. To the left, in a group of trees, stood
+a pretty little gabled house.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What house is that?&#8221; asked Jim Airth,
+quickly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The Lodge, sir.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Who lives there?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mrs. O&#8217;Mara, sir.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Has Mrs. O&#8217;Mara returned?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t know, sir. She was up at the
+house with her ladyship this morning.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then she <i>has</i> returned,&#8221; said Jim Airth.</p>
+<p>The groom looked perplexed, but made no
+comment.</p>
+<p>Jim Airth turned in his seat, and looked
+back at the Lodge. It was a far smaller
+house than he had expected. This fact did not
+seem to depress him. He smiled to himself,
+as at some thought which gave him amusement
+and pleasure. While he still looked
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span>
+back, a side door opened; a neatly dressed
+woman in black, apparently a superior lady&#8217;s-maid,
+appeared on the doorstep, shook out a
+white table-cloth, and re-entered the house.</p>
+<p>They flew on up the avenue, Jim Airth
+noting every tree with appreciation and
+pleasure. The fine old house came into view,
+and a moment later they drew up at the
+entrance.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good driving,&#8221; remarked Jim Airth
+approvingly, as he tipped the little groom.
+Then he turned, to find the great doors
+already standing wide, and a stately butler,
+with immense black eyebrows, waiting to
+receive him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Will you come to her ladyship&#8217;s sitting-room,
+sir?&#8221; said the butler, and led the way.</p>
+<p>Jim Airth entered a charmingly appointed
+room, and looked around.</p>
+<p>It was empty.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Kindly wait here, sir, while I acquaint
+her ladyship with your arrival,&#8221; said the
+pompous person with the eyebrows, and went
+out noiselessly, closing the door behind him.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span></p>
+<p>Left alone, Jim Airth commenced taking
+rapid note of the room, hoping to gain therefrom
+some ideas as to the tastes and character
+of its possessor. But almost immediately his
+attention was arrested by a life-size portrait of
+Lord Ingleby, hanging above the mantelpiece.</p>
+<p>Jim Airth walked over to the hearthrug, and
+stood long, looking with silent intentness at
+the picture.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Excellent,&#8221; he said to himself, at last.
+&#8220;Extraordinarily clever. That chap shall
+paint Myra, if I can lay hands on him. What
+a jolly little dog! And what devotion! Mutual
+and absorbing. I suppose that is Peter.
+Queer to think that I should have been the last
+to hear him calling Peter. I wonder whether
+Lady Ingleby liked Peter. If not, I doubt
+if she would have had much of a look-in. If
+anyone went to the wall it certainly wasn&#8217;t
+Peter.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He was still absorbed in the picture, when
+the butler returned with a long message,
+solemnly delivered.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Her ladyship is out in the grounds, sir.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span>
+As it is so warm in the house, sir, her ladyship
+requests that you come to her in the grounds.
+If you will allow me, sir, I will show you the
+way.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Jim Airth restrained an inclination to say:
+&#8220;Buck up!&#8221; and followed the butler along a
+corridor, down a wide staircase to a lower
+hall. They stepped out on to a terrace running
+the full length of the house. Below
+it, an old-fashioned garden, with box borders,
+bright flower beds, a fountain in the centre.
+Beyond this a smooth lawn, sloping down to a
+beautiful lake, which sparkled and gleamed
+in the afternoon sunshine. On this lawn,
+well to the right, half-way between the house
+and the water, stood a group of beeches.
+Beneath their spreading boughs, in the cool
+inviting shadow, were some garden chairs.
+Jim Airth could just discern, in one of these,
+the white gown of a woman, holding a scarlet
+parasol.</p>
+<p>The butler indicated this clump of trees.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Her ladyship said, sir, that she would
+await you under the beeches.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span></p>
+<p>He returned to the house, and Jim Airth
+was left to make his way alone to Lady
+Ingleby, guided by the gleam among the trees
+of her brilliant parasol. Even at that moment
+it gave him pleasure to find Lady
+Ingleby&#8217;s taste in sunshades, resembling
+Myra&#8217;s.</p>
+<p>He stood for a minute on the terrace, taking
+in the matchless beauty of the place. Then
+his face grew sad and stern. &#8220;What a home
+to leave,&#8221; he said; &#8220;and to leave it, never to
+return!&#8221;</p>
+<p>He still wore a look of sadness as he descended
+the steps leading to the flower garden,
+made his way along the narrow gravel paths;
+then stepped on to the soft turf of the lawn,
+and walked towards the clump of beeches.</p>
+<p>Jim Airth&mdash;tall and soldierly, broad-shouldered
+and erect&mdash;might have made an
+excellent impression upon Lady Ingleby, had
+she watched his coming. But she kept her
+parasol between herself and her approaching
+guest.</p>
+<p>In fact he drew quite near; near enough to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span>
+distinguish the ripples of soft lace about, her
+feet, the long graceful sweep of her gown; and
+still she seemed unconscious of his close
+proximity.</p>
+<p>He passed beneath the beeches and stood
+before her. And, even then, the parasol
+concealed her face.</p>
+<p>But Jim Airth was never at a loss, when sure
+of his ground. &#8220;Lady Ingleby,&#8221; he said,
+with grave formality; &#8220;I was told to&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>Then the parasol was flung aside, and he
+found himself looking down into the lovely
+laughing eyes of Myra.</p>
+<p>To see Jim Airth&#8217;s face change from its
+look of formal gravity to one of rapturous
+delight, was to Myra well worth the long effort
+of sitting immovable. He flung himself down
+before her with boyish abandon, and clasped
+both herself and her chair in his long arms.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, you darling!&#8221; he said, bending his face
+over hers, while his blue eyes danced with
+delight. &#8220;Oh, Myra, what centuries since
+yesterday! How I have longed for you. I
+almost hoped you would after all have come
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span>
+to the station. How I have grudged wasting
+all this time in coming to call on old Lady
+Ingleby. Myra, has it seemed long to you?
+Do you realise, my dear girl, that it <i>can&#8217;t</i> go
+on any longer; that we cannot possibly live
+through another twenty-four hours of separation?
+But oh, you Tease! There was I, ramping
+with impatience at every wasted moment;
+and here were you, sitting under this tree,
+hiding your face and pretending to be Lady
+Ingleby! The astonished and astonishing old
+party in the eyebrows, certainly pointed you
+out as Lady Ingleby when he started me off
+on my pilgrimage. I say, how lovely you
+look! What billowy softness! It wouldn&#8217;t
+do for cliff-climbing; but its A.I. for sitting
+on lawns.... I can&#8217;t help it! I must!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Jim,&#8221; said Myra, laughing and pushing
+him away; &#8220;what has come to you, you dearest
+old boy? You will really have to behave!
+We are not in the honeysuckle arbour. &#8216;The
+astonishing old party in the eyebrows&#8217; is most
+likely observing us from a window, and will
+have good cause to look astonished, if he sees
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span>
+you &#8216;carrying on&#8217; in such a manner. Jim,
+how nice you look in your town clothes. I
+always like a grey frock-coat. Stand up, and
+let me see.... Oh, look at the green of the
+turf on those immaculate knees! What a
+pity. Did you don all this finery for me?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of course not, silly!&#8221; said Jim Airth,
+rubbing his knees vigorously. &#8220;When I haul
+you up cliffs, I wear old Norfolk coats; and
+when I duck you in the sea, I wear flannels. I
+considered this the correct attire in which to
+pay a formal call on Lady Ingleby; and now,
+before she has had a chance of being duly
+impressed by it, I have spoilt my knees hopelessly,
+worshipping at your shrine! Where is
+Lady Ingleby? Why doesn&#8217;t she keep her
+appointments?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Jim,&#8221; said Myra, looking up at him with
+eyes full of unspeakable love, yet dancing
+with excitement and delight; &#8220;Jim, do you
+admire this place?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;This place?&#8221; cried Jim, stepping back a
+pace, so as to command a good view of the
+lake and woods beyond. &#8220;It is absolutely
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span>
+perfect. We have nothing like this in Scotland.
+You can&#8217;t beat for all round beauty a
+real old mellow lived-in English country
+seat; especially when you get a twenty acre
+lake, with islands and swans, all complete.
+And I suppose the woods beyond, as far as one
+can see, belong to the Inglebys&mdash;or rather, to
+Lady Ingleby. What a pity there is no
+son.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Jim,&#8221; said Myra, &#8220;I have so looked forward
+to showing you my home.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He stepped close to her at once. &#8220;Then
+show it to me, dear,&#8221; he said. &#8220;I would
+rather be alone with you in your own little
+home&mdash;I saw it, as we drove up&mdash;than waiting
+about, in this vast expanse of beauty, for
+Lady Ingleby.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Jim,&#8221; said Myra, &#8220;do you remember a
+little tune I often hummed down in Cornwall;
+and, when you asked me what it was, I said
+you should hear the words some day?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Jim looked puzzled. &#8220;Really dear&mdash;you
+hummed so many little tunes&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I know,&#8221; said Myra; &#8220;and I have not
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span>
+much ear. But this was very special. I
+want to sing it to you now. Listen!&#8221;</p>
+<p>And looking up at him, her soft eyes full
+of love, Myra sang, with slight alterations of
+her own, the last verse of the old Scotch
+ballad, &#8220;Huntingtower.&#8221;</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>&#8220;Blair in Athol&#8217;s mine, Jamie,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Fair Dunkeld is mine, laddie;</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Saint Johnstown&#8217;s bower,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>And Huntingtower,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>And all that&#8217;s mine, is thine, laddie.&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&#8220;Very pretty,&#8221; said Jim, &#8220;but you&#8217;ve
+mixed it, my dear. Jamie bestowed all his
+possessions on the lassie. You sang it the
+wrong way round.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, no,&#8221; cried Myra, eagerly. &#8220;There
+<i>is</i> no wrong way round. Providing they both
+love, it does not really matter which gives.
+The one who happens to possess, bestows. If
+you were a cowboy, Jim, and you loved a
+woman with lands and houses, in taking her,
+you would take all that was hers.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I guess I&#8217;d take her out to my ranch
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span>
+and teach her to milk cows,&#8221; laughed Jim
+Airth. Then turning about under the tree
+and looking in all directions: &#8220;But seriously,
+Myra, where is Lady Ingleby? She should
+keep her appointments. We cannot waste
+our whole afternoon waiting here. I want
+my girl; and I want her in her own little home,
+alone. Cannot we find Lady Ingleby?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Then Myra rose, radiant, and came and
+stood before him. The sunbeams shone
+through the beech leaves and danced in her
+grey eyes. She had never looked more
+perfect in her sweet loveliness. The man
+took it all in, and the glory of possession
+lighted his handsome face.</p>
+<p>She came and stood before him, laying her
+hands upon his breast. He wrapped his
+arms lightly about her. He saw she had
+something to say; and he waited.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Jim,&#8221; said Myra, &#8220;Jim, dearest. There is
+just one name I want to bear, more than any
+other. There is just one thing I long to be.
+Then I shall be content. I want to have the
+right to be called &#8216;Mrs. Jim Airth.&#8217; I want
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span>
+more than all else beside, to be your wife.
+But&mdash;until I am that; and may it be very soon!
+until you make me &#8216;Mrs. Jim Airth&#8217;&mdash;dearest&mdash;<i>I</i>&mdash;am
+Lady Ingleby.&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XVI_UNDER_THE_BEECHES_AT_SHENSTONE' id='XVI_UNDER_THE_BEECHES_AT_SHENSTONE'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205' name='page_205'></a>205</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2>
+<h3>UNDER THE BEECHES AT SHENSTONE</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Jim Airth&#8217;s arms fell slowly to his sides.
+He still looked into those happy, loving
+eyes, but the joy in his own died out, leaving
+them merely cold blue steel. His face slowly
+whitened, hardened, froze into lines of silent
+misery. Then he moved back a step, and
+Myra&#8217;s hands fell from him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;<i>You</i>&mdash;&#8216;Lady Ingleby&#8217;?&#8221; he said.</p>
+<p>Myra gazed at him, in unspeakable dismay.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Jim!&#8221; she cried, &#8220;Jim, dearest! Why
+should you mind it so much?&#8221;</p>
+<p>She moved forward, and tried to take his
+hand.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t touch me!&#8221; he said, sharply. Then:
+&#8220;<i>You</i>, Myra? You! Lord Ingleby&#8217;s widow?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The furious misery of his voice stung Myra.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206' name='page_206'></a>206</span>
+Why should he resent the noble name she bore,
+the high rank which was hers? Even if it
+placed her socially far above him, had she
+not just expressed her readiness&mdash;her longing&mdash;to
+resign all, for him? Had not her love
+already placed him on the topmost pinnacle
+of her regard? Was it generous, was it
+worthy of Jim Airth to take her disclosure
+thus?</p>
+<p>She moved towards the chairs, with gentle
+dignity.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Let us sit down, Jim, and talk it over,&#8221;
+she said, quietly. &#8220;I do not think you need
+find it so overwhelming a matter as you seem
+to imagine. Let me tell you all about it;
+or rather, suppose you ask me any questions
+you like.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Jim Airth sat blindly down upon the chair
+farthest from her, put his elbows on his knees,
+and sank his face into his hands.</p>
+<p>Without any comment, Myra rose; moved
+her chair close enough to enable her to lay
+her hand upon his arm, should she wish to
+do so; sat down again, and waited in silence.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207' name='page_207'></a>207</span></p>
+<p>Jim Airth had but one question to ask.
+He asked it, without lifting his head.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Who is Mrs. O&#8217;Mara?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;She is the widow of Sergeant O&#8217;Mara who
+fell at Targai. We both lost our husbands in
+that disaster, Jim. She had been for many
+years my maid-attendant. When she married
+the sergeant, a fine soldier whom Michael
+held in high esteem, I wished still to keep her
+near me. Michael had given me the Lodge
+to do with as I pleased. I put them into it.
+She lives there still. Oh, Jim dearest, try to
+realise that I have not said one word to you
+which was not completely truthful! Let me
+explain how I came to be in Cornwall under
+her name instead of my own. If I might put
+my hand in yours, Jim, I could tell you more
+easily.... No? Very well; never mind.</p>
+<p>&#8220;After I received the telegram last November
+telling me of my husband&#8217;s death, I had a
+very bad nervous breakdown. I do not
+think it was caused so much by my loss, as by
+a prolonged mental strain, which had preceded
+it. Just as I had moved to town and was
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208' name='page_208'></a>208</span>
+getting better, full details arrived, and I had
+to be told that it had been an accident. You
+know all about the question as to whether
+I should hear the name or not. You also
+know my decision. The worry of this threw
+me back. What you said in the arbour was
+perfectly true. I <i>am</i> a woman, Jim; often,
+a weak one; and I was very much alone. I
+decided rightly, in a supreme moment&mdash;possibly
+you may know who it was who
+graciously undertook to bring me the news
+from the War Office&mdash;but, afterwards, I
+began to wonder; I allowed myself to guess.
+Men from the front came home. My surmisings
+circled ceaselessly around two&mdash;dear
+fellows, of whom I was really fond. At last
+I felt convinced I knew, by intangible yet
+unmistakable signs, which was he who had
+done it. I grew quite sure. And then&mdash;I
+hardly know how to tell you, Jim&mdash;of all
+impossible horrors! The man who had killed
+Michael wanted to marry <i>me</i>!&mdash;Oh, don&#8217;t
+groan, darling; you make me so unhappy!
+But I do not wonder you find it difficult to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209' name='page_209'></a>209</span>
+believe. He cared very much, poor boy; and
+I suppose he thought that, as I should remain
+in ignorance, the <i>fact</i> need not matter. It
+seems hard to understand; but a man in love
+sometimes loses all sense of proportion&mdash;at
+least so I once heard someone say; or words to
+that effect. I did not allow it ever to reach
+the point of an actual proposal; but I felt I
+must flee away. There were others&mdash;and
+it was terrible to me. I loved none of them;
+and I had made up my mind never to marry
+again unless I found my ideal. Oh, Jim!&#8221;</p>
+<p>She laid her hand upon his knee. It might
+have been a falling leaf, for all the sign he
+gave. She left it there, and went on speaking.</p>
+<p>&#8220;People gossiped. Society papers contained
+constant trying paragraphs. Even my widow&#8217;s
+weeds were sketched and copied. My nerves
+grew worse. Life seemed unendurable.</p>
+<p>&#8220;At last I consulted a great specialist, who
+is also a trusted friend. He ordered me a
+rest-cure. Not to be shut up within four
+walls with my own worries, but to go right
+away alone; to leave my own identity, and all
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210' name='page_210'></a>210</span>
+appertaining thereto, completely behind; to
+go to a place to which I had never before been,
+where I knew no one, and should not be
+known; to live in the open air; fare simply;
+rise early, retire early; but, above
+all, as he quaintly said: &#8216;Leave Lady Ingleby
+behind.&#8217;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I followed his advice to the letter. He is
+not a man one can disobey. I did not like the
+idea of taking a fictitious name, so I decided
+to be &#8216;Mrs. O&#8217;Mara,&#8217; and naturally entered
+her address in the visitors&#8217; book, as well as her
+name.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, that evening of arrival! You were
+quite right, Jim. I felt just a happy child,
+entering a new world of beauty and delight&mdash;all
+holiday and rest.</p>
+<p>&#8220;And then&mdash;I saw you! And, oh my
+belovèd, I think almost from the first moment
+my soul flew to you, as to its unquestioned
+mate! Your vitality became my source of
+vigour; your strength filled and upheld everything
+in me which had been weak and faltering.
+I owed you much, before we had really
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211' name='page_211'></a>211</span>
+spoken. Afterwards, I owed you life itself,
+and love, and all&mdash;<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>ALL</span>, Jim!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Myra paused, silently controlling her emotion;
+then, bending forward, laid her lips upon
+the roughness of his hair. It might have been
+the stirring of the breeze, for all the sign he
+made.</p>
+<p>&#8220;When I found at first that you had come
+from the war, when I realised that you must
+have known Michael, I praised the doctor&#8217;s
+wisdom in making me drop my own name.
+Also the Murgatroyds would have known it
+immediately, and I should have had no peace,
+As it was, Miss Murgatroyd occasionally
+held forth in the sitting-room concerning
+&#8216;poor dear Lady Ingleby,&#8217; whom she gave us
+to understand she knew intimately. And
+then&mdash;oh, Jim! when I came to know my
+cosmopolitan cowboy; when he told me he
+hated titles and all that appertained to them;
+then indeed I blessed the moment when I
+had writ myself down plain &#8216;Mrs. O&#8217;Mara&#8217;;
+and I resolved not to tell him of my title until
+he loved me enough not to mind it, or wanted
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212' name='page_212'></a>212</span>
+me enough, to change me at once from Lady
+Ingleby of Shenstone Park, into plain Mrs.
+Jim Airth of&mdash;anywhere he chooses to take me!</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now you will understand why I felt I
+could not marry you validly in Cornwall;
+and I wanted&mdash;was it selfish?&mdash;I wanted the
+joy of revealing my own identity when I had
+you, at last, in my own beautiful home. Oh,
+my dear&mdash;my dear! Cannot our love stand
+the test of so light a thing as this?&#8221;</p>
+<p>She ceased speaking and waited.</p>
+<p>She was sure of her victory; but it seemed
+strange, in dealing with so fine a nature as that
+of the man she loved, that she should have had
+to fight so hard over what appeared to her a
+paltry matter. But she knew false pride
+often rose gigantic about the smallest things;
+the very unworthiness of the cause seeming
+to add to the unreasonable growth of its
+dimensions.</p>
+<p>She was deeply hurt; but she was a woman,
+and she loved him. She waited patiently to
+see his love for her arise victorious over
+unworthy pride.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213' name='page_213'></a>213</span></p>
+<p>At last Jim Airth stood up.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I cannot face it yet,&#8221; he said, slowly. &#8220;I
+must be alone. I ought to have known from
+the very first that you were&mdash;are&mdash;Lady
+Ingleby. I am very sorry that you should
+have to suffer for that which is no fault of
+your own. I must&mdash;go&mdash;now. In twenty-four
+hours, I will come back to talk it over.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He turned, without another word; without
+a touch; without a look. He swung round on
+his heel, and walked away across the lawn.</p>
+<p>Myra&#8217;s dismayed eyes could scarcely follow
+him.</p>
+<p>He mounted the terrace; passed into the
+house. A door closed.</p>
+<p>Jim Airth was gone!</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XVII__SURELY_YOU_KNEW' id='XVII__SURELY_YOU_KNEW'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214' name='page_214'></a>214</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2>
+<h3>&#8220;SURELY YOU KNEW?&#8221;</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Myra Ingleby rose and wended her
+way slowly towards the house.</p>
+<p>A stranger meeting her would probably
+have noticed nothing amiss with the tall
+graceful woman, whose pallor might well have
+been due to the unusual warmth of the day.</p>
+<p>But the heart within her was dying.</p>
+<p>Her joy had received a mortal wound. The
+man she adored, with a love which had placed
+him at the highest, was slowly slipping from
+his pedestal, and her hands were powerless
+to keep him there.</p>
+<p>A woman may drag her own pride in the
+dust, and survive the process; but when the
+man she loves falls, then indeed her heart dies
+within her.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215' name='page_215'></a>215</span></p>
+<p>She had loved to call Jim Airth a cowboy.
+She knew him to be avowedly cosmopolitan.
+But was he also a slave to vulgar pride? Being
+plain Jim Airth himself, did he grudge noble
+birth and ancient lineage to those to whom
+they rightfully belonged? Professing to scorn
+titles, did he really set upon them so exaggerated
+a value, that he would turn from the
+woman he was about to wed, merely because
+she owned a title, while he had none?</p>
+<p>Myra, entering the house, passed to her
+sitting-room. Green awnings shaded the
+windows. The fireplace was banked with
+ferns and lilies. Bowls of roses stood about;
+while here and there pots of growing freesias
+poured their delicate fragrance around.</p>
+<p>Myra crossed to the hearthrug and stood
+gazing up at the picture of Lord Ingleby.
+The gentle refinement of the scholarly face
+seemed accentuated by the dim light. Lady
+Ingleby dwelt in memory upon the consistent
+courtesy of the dead man&#8217;s manner; his
+unfailing friendliness and equability to all;
+courteous to men of higher rank, considerate
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216' name='page_216'></a>216</span>
+to those of lower; genial to rich and poor
+alike.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Michael,&#8221; she whispered, &#8220;have I been
+unfaithful? Have I forgotten how good you
+were?&#8221;</p>
+<p>But still her heart died within her. The
+man who had stalked across the lawn, leaving
+her without a touch or look, held it in the
+hollow of his hand.</p>
+<p>A dog-cart clattered up to the portico.
+Men&#8217;s voices sounded in the hall. Tramping
+feet hurried along the corridor. Then Billy&#8217;s
+excited young voice cried, &#8220;May we come in?&#8221;
+followed by Ronnie&#8217;s deeper tones, &#8220;If we
+shall not be in the way?&#8221; The next moment
+she was grasping a hand of each.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You dear boys!&#8221; she said. &#8220;I have never
+been more glad to see you! Do sit down; or
+have you come to play tennis?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We have come to see <i>you</i>, dear Queen,&#8221;
+said Billy. &#8220;We are staying at Overdene.
+The duchess had your letter. She told us the
+great news; also, that you were returning
+yesterday. So we came over to&mdash;to&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217' name='page_217'></a>217</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;To congratulate,&#8221; said Ronald Ingram;
+and he said it heartily and bravely.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thank you,&#8221; said Myra, smiling at them,
+but her sweet voice was tremulous. These
+first congratulations, coming just now, were
+almost more than she could bear. Then,
+with characteristic simplicity and straightforwardness,
+she told these old friends the
+truth.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You dear boys! It is quite sweet of you
+to come over; and an hour ago, you would have
+found me radiant. There cannot have been
+a happier woman in the whole world than I.
+But, you know, I met him, and we became
+engaged, while I was doing my very original
+rest-cure, which consisted chiefly in being
+Mrs. O&#8217;Mara, to all intents and purposes,
+instead of myself. This afternoon he knows
+for the first time that I am Lady Ingleby of
+Shenstone. And, boys, the shock has been
+too much for him. He is such a splendid
+man; but a dear delightful cowboy sort of
+person. He has lived a great deal abroad,
+and been everything you can imagine that
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218' name='page_218'></a>218</span>
+bestrides a horse and does brave things. He
+finished up at your horrid little war, and got
+fever at Targai. You must have known
+him. He calls it &#8216;a muddle on the frontier,&#8217;
+and now he is writing a book about it, and
+about other muddles, and how to avoid them.
+But he has a quite eccentric dislike to titles
+and big properties; so he has shied really
+badly at mine. He has gone off to &#8216;face it out&#8217;
+alone. Hence you find me sad instead of gay.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Billy looked at Ronnie, telegraphing: &#8220;Is
+it? It must be! Shall we tell her?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Ronnie telegraphed back: &#8220;It is! It can
+be no other. <i>You</i> tell her.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby became aware of these crosscurrents.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What is it, boys?&#8221; she said,</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dear Queen,&#8221; cried Billy, with hardly
+suppressed excitement; &#8220;may we ask the
+cowboy person&#8217;s name?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Jim Airth,&#8221; replied Lady Ingleby, a
+sudden rush of colour flooding her pale cheeks.</p>
+<p>&#8220;In that case,&#8221; said Billy, &#8220;he is the chap
+we met tearing along to the railway station,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219' name='page_219'></a>219</span>
+as if all the furies were loose at his heels. He
+looked neither to the right nor to the left,
+nor, for that matter, in front of him; and our
+dog-cart had to take to the path! So he did
+not see two old comrades, nor did he hear their
+hail. But he cannot possibly have been
+fleeing from your title, dear lady, and hardly
+from your property; seeing that his own title
+is about the oldest known in Scottish history;
+while mile after mile of moor and stream and
+forest belong to him. Surely you knew that
+the fellow who called himself &#8216;Jim Airth&#8217; when
+out ranching in the West, and still keeps it
+as his <i>nom-de-plume</i>, is&mdash;when at home&mdash;James,
+Earl of Airth and Monteith, and a
+few other names I have forgotten;&mdash;the finest
+old title in Scotland!&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XVIII_WHAT_BILLY_HAD_TO_TELL' id='XVIII_WHAT_BILLY_HAD_TO_TELL'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220' name='page_220'></a>220</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2>
+<h3>WHAT BILLY HAD TO TELL</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>&#8220;Did you bring your rackets, boys?&#8221;
+Lady Ingleby had said, with fine self-control;
+adding, when they admitted rackets
+left in the hall, &#8220;Ah, I am glad you never can
+resist the chestnut court. It seems ages since
+I saw you two fight out a single. Do go on
+and begin. I will order tea out there in half
+an hour, and follow you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Then she escaped to the terrace, flew across
+garden and lawn, and sought the shelter of the
+beeches. Arrived there, she sank into the
+chair in which Jim Airth had sat so immovable,
+and covered her face with her trembling
+fingers.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Jim, Jim!&#8221; she sobbed. &#8220;My darling,
+how grievously I wronged you! My king
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221' name='page_221'></a>221</span>
+among men! How I misjudged you! Imputing
+to you thoughts of which you, in your
+noble large-heartedness, would scarcely know
+the meaning. Oh, my dear, forgive me!
+And oh, come to me through this darkness and
+explain what I have done wrong; explain
+what it is you have to face; tell me what
+has come between us. For indeed, if you
+leave me, I shall die.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Myra now felt certain that the fault was
+hers; and she suffered less than when she had
+thought it his. Yet she was sorely perplexed.
+For, if the Earl of Airth and Monteith might
+write himself down &#8220;Jim Airth&#8221; in the Moorhead
+Inn visitors&#8217; book, and be blameless,
+why might not Lady Ingleby of Shenstone
+take an equally simple name, without committing
+an unpardonable offence?</p>
+<p>Myra pondered, wept, and reasoned round
+in a circle, growing more and more bewildered
+and perplexed.</p>
+<p>But by-and-by she went indoors and tried to
+remove all traces of recent tears. She must
+not let her sorrow make her selfish. Ronald
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222' name='page_222'></a>222</span>
+and Billy would be wanting tea, and expecting
+her to join them.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>Meanwhile the two friends, their rackets
+under their arms, had strolled through the
+shrubbery at the front of the house, to the
+beautiful tennis lawns, long renowned as being
+the most perfect in the neighbourhood. Many
+a tournament had there been fought out, in
+presence of a gay crowd, lining the courts,
+beneath the shady chestnut trees.</p>
+<p>But on this day the place seemed sad and
+deserted. They played one set, in silence,
+hardly troubling to score; then walked to the
+net and stood close together, one on either side.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We must tell her,&#8221; said Ronald, examining
+his racket, minutely.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I suppose we must,&#8221; agreed Billy, reluctantly.
+&#8220;We could not let her marry him.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Duffer! you don&#8217;t suppose he would dream
+of marrying her? He will come back, and tell
+her himself to-morrow. We must tell her,
+to spare her that interview. She need never
+see him again.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223' name='page_223'></a>223</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I say, Ron! Did you see her go quite
+pink when she told us his name? And in spite
+of the trouble to-day, she looks half a dozen
+years younger than when she went away.
+You know she does, old man!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, that&#8217;s the rest-cure,&#8221; explained Ronnie,
+but without much conviction. &#8220;Rest-cures
+always have that effect. That&#8217;s why
+women go in for them. Did you ever hear of a
+man doing a rest-cure?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, I&#8217;ve heard of <i>you</i>, at Overdene,&#8221;
+said Billy, maliciously.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Rot! You don&#8217;t call staying with the
+duchess a rest-cure? Good heavens, man!
+You get about the liveliest time of your life
+when her Grace of Meldrum undertakes to
+nurse you. Did you hear about old Pilberry
+the parson, and the toucan?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, shut up. You&#8217;ve told me that unholy
+story twice already. I say, Ronnie!
+We are begging the question. Who&#8217;s to tell
+her?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You,&#8221; said Ronald decidedly. &#8220;She cares
+for you like a mother, and will take it more
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224' name='page_224'></a>224</span>
+easily from you. Then I can step in, later
+on, with&mdash;er&mdash;<i>manly</i> comfort.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Confound you!&#8221; said Billy, highly indignant.
+&#8220;I&#8217;m not such a kid as you make
+out. But I&#8217;ll tell you this:&mdash;If I thought it
+would be for her real happiness, and could be
+pulled through, I would tell her I did it; then
+find Airth to-morrow and tell him I had told
+her so.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ass!&#8221; said Ronnie, affectionately. &#8220;As if
+that could mend matters. Don&#8217;t you know
+the earl? He was against the hushing-up
+business from the first. He would simply
+punch your head for daring to lie to her, and
+go and tell her the exact truth himself. Besides,
+at this moment, he is thinking more of his side
+of the question, than of hers. We fellows
+have a way of doing that. If he had thought
+first of her, he would have stayed with her
+and seen her through, instead of rushing off
+like this, leaving her heart-broken and perplexed.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Confound him!&#8221; said Billy, earnestly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I say, Billy! You know women.&#8221; It
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225' name='page_225'></a>225</span>
+was the first time Ronnie had admitted this.
+&#8220;Don&#8217;t you think&mdash;if a woman turned in
+horror from a man she had loved, she might&mdash;if
+he were tactfully on the spot&mdash;turn <i>to</i> a
+man who had long loved her, and of whom
+she had undoubtedly been fond?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;My knowledge of women,&#8221; declaimed
+Billy, dramatically, &#8220;leads me to hope that
+she would fall into the arms of the man who
+loved her well enough to risk incurring her
+displeasure by bravely telling her himself that
+which she ought&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Confound you!&#8221; whispered Ronnie, who
+had glanced past Billy, &#8220;Shut up!&mdash;The
+meshes of this net are better than the other,
+and the new patent sockets undoubtedly
+keep it&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You patient people!&#8221; said Lady Ingleby&#8217;s
+voice, just behind Billy. &#8220;Don&#8217;t you badly
+need tea?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We were admiring the new net,&#8221; said
+Ronald Ingram, frowning at Billy, who with
+his back to Lady Ingleby, continued admiring
+the new net, helplessly speechless!
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226' name='page_226'></a>226</span></p>
+<p>There were brave attempts at merriment
+during tea. Ronald told all the latest Overdene
+stories; then described the annual concert
+which had just taken place.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mrs. Dalmain was there, and sang divinely.
+She sings her husband&#8217;s songs; he accompanies
+her. It is awfully fine to see the light on his
+blind face as he listens, while her glorious voice
+comes pouring forth. When the song is over,
+he gets up from the piano, gives her his arm,
+and apparently leads her off. Very few people
+realise that, as a matter of fact, she is guiding
+him. She gave, as an encore, a jolly little new
+thing of his&mdash;quite simple&mdash;but everybody
+wanted it twice over; an air like summer wind
+blowing through a pine wood, with an accompaniment
+like a blackbird whistling; words
+something about &#8216;On God&#8217;s fair earth, &#8217;mid
+blossoms blue&#8217;&mdash;I forget the rest. Go
+ahead, Bill!&#8221;</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>&#8220;There is no room for sad despair,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>When heaven&#8217;s love is everywhere.&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>quoted Billy, who had an excellent memory.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227' name='page_227'></a>227</span></p>
+<p>Myra rose, hastily. &#8220;I must go in,&#8221; she
+said. &#8220;But play as long as you like.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Billy walked beside her towards the shrubbery.
+&#8220;May I come in and see you, presently,
+dear Queen? There is something I want to say.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Come when you will, Billy-boy,&#8221; said
+Lady Ingleby, with a smile. &#8220;You will find
+me in my sitting-room.&#8221;</p>
+<p>And Billy looked furtively at Ronald,
+hoping he had not seen. Words and smile
+undoubtedly partook of the maternal!</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>It was a very grave-faced young man who,
+half an hour later, appeared in Lady Ingleby&#8217;s
+sitting-room, closing the door carefully behind
+him. Lady Ingleby knew at once that he had
+come on some matter which, at all events to
+himself, appeared of paramount importance.
+Billy&#8217;s days of youthful escapades were over.
+This must be something more serious.</p>
+<p>She rose from her davenport and came to
+the sofa. &#8220;Sit down, Billy,&#8221; she said, indicating
+an armchair opposite&mdash;Lord Ingleby&#8217;s
+chair, and little Peter&#8217;s. Both had now
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228' name='page_228'></a>228</span>
+left it empty. Billy filled it readily, unconscious
+of its associations.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Rippin&#8217; flowers,&#8221; remarked Billy, looking
+round the room.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&#8221; said Lady Ingleby. She devoutly
+hoped Billy was not going to propose.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Jolly room,&#8221; said Billy; &#8220;at least, I always
+think so.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&#8221; said Lady Ingleby. &#8220;So do I.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Billy&#8217;s eyes, roaming anxiously around for
+fresh inspiration, lighted on the portrait over
+the mantelpiece. He started and paled. Then
+he knew his hour had come. There must
+be no more beating about the bush.</p>
+<p>Billy was a soldier, and a brave one. He
+had led a charge once, running up a hill ahead
+of his men, in face of a perfect hail of bullets.
+First came Billy; then the battalion. Not a
+man could keep within fifty yards of him.
+They always said afterwards that Billy came
+through that charge alive, because he sprinted
+so fast, that no bullets could touch him. He
+rushed at the subject now, with the same
+headlong courage.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229' name='page_229'></a>229</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Lady Ingleby,&#8221; he said, &#8220;there is something
+Ronnie and I both think you ought to
+know.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is there, Billy?&#8221; said Myra. &#8220;Then
+suppose you tell it me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We have sworn not to tell,&#8221; continued
+Billy; &#8220;but I don&#8217;t care a damn&mdash;I mean a
+pin&mdash;for an oath, if <i>your</i> happiness is at
+stake.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You must not break an oath, Billy, even
+for my sake,&#8221; said Myra, gently.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, you see&mdash;<i>if you wished it</i>, you were
+to be the one exception.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Suddenly Lady Ingleby understood. &#8220;Oh,
+Billy!&#8221; she said. &#8220;Does Ronald wish me to
+be told?&#8221;</p>
+<p>This gave Billy a pang. So Ronnie really
+counted after all, and would walk in&mdash;over
+the broken hearts of Billy and another&mdash;in
+rôle of manly comforter. It was hard; but,
+loyally, Billy made answer.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes; Ronnie says it is only right; and I
+think so too. I&#8217;ve come to do it, if you will
+let me.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230' name='page_230'></a>230</span></p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby sat, with clasped hands,
+considering. After all, what did it matter?
+What did anything matter, compared to the
+trouble with Jim?</p>
+<p>She looked up at the portrait; but Michael&#8217;s
+pictured face, intent on little Peter, gave her
+no sign.</p>
+<p>If these boys wished to tell her, and get it
+off their minds, why should she not know?
+It would put a stop, once for all, to Ronnie&#8217;s
+tragic love-making.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, Billy,&#8221; she said. &#8220;You may as well
+tell me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The room was very still. A rosebud
+tapped twice against the window-pane. It
+might have been a warning finger. Neither
+noticed it. It tapped a third time.</p>
+<p>Billy cleared his throat, and swallowed,
+quickly.</p>
+<p>Then he spoke.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The man who made the blunder,&#8221; he said,
+&#8220;and fired the mine too soon; the man who
+killed Lord Ingleby, by mistake, was the chap
+you call &#8216;Jim Airth.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XIX_JIM_AIRTH_DECIDES' id='XIX_JIM_AIRTH_DECIDES'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231' name='page_231'></a>231</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2>
+<h3>JIM AIRTH DECIDES</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Lady Ingleby awaited Jim Airth&#8217;s
+arrival, in her sitting-room.</p>
+<p>As the hour drew near, she rang the bell.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Groatley,&#8221; she said, when the butler
+appeared, &#8220;the Earl of Airth, who was here
+yesterday, will call again, this afternoon.
+When his lordship comes, you can show him
+in here. I shall not be at home to any one
+else. You need not bring tea until I ring for
+it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Then she sat down, quietly waiting.</p>
+<p>She had resumed the mourning, temporarily
+laid aside. The black gown, hanging about
+her in soft trailing folds, added to the graceful
+height of her slight figure. The white tokens
+of widowhood at neck and wrists gave to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232' name='page_232'></a>232</span>
+her unusual beauty a pathetic suggestion of
+wistful loneliness. Her face was very pale; a
+purple tint beneath the tired eyes betokened
+tears and sleeplessness. But the calm steadfast
+look in those sweet eyes revealed a mind
+free of all doubt; a heart, completely at rest.</p>
+<p>She leaned back among the sofa cushions,
+her hands folded in her lap, and waited.</p>
+<p>Bees hummed in and out of the open
+windows. The scent of freesias filled the room,
+delicate, piercingly sweet, yet not oppressive.
+To one man forever afterwards the scent of
+freesias recalled that afternoon; the exquisite
+sweetness of that lovely face; the trailing
+softness of her widow&#8217;s gown.</p>
+<p>Steps in the hall.</p>
+<p>The door opened. Groatley&#8217;s voice, pompously
+sonorous, broke into the waiting
+silence.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The Earl of Airth, m&#8217;lady&#8221;; and Jim
+Airth walked in.</p>
+<p>As the door closed behind him, Myra rose.</p>
+<p>They stood, silently confronting one another
+beneath Lord Ingleby&#8217;s picture.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233' name='page_233'></a>233</span></p>
+<p>It almost seemed as though the thoughtful
+scholarly face must turn from its absorbed
+contemplation of the little dog, to look down
+for a moment upon them. They presented
+a psychological problem&mdash;these brave hearts
+in torment&mdash;which would surely have proved
+interesting to the calm student of metaphysics.</p>
+<p>Silently they faced one another for the space
+of a dozen heart-beats.</p>
+<p>Then Myra, with a swift movement, went
+up to Jim Airth, put her arms about his neck,
+and laid her head upon his breast.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I <i>know</i>, my belovèd,&#8221; she said. &#8220;You
+need not give yourself the pain of trying to
+tell me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;How?&#8221; A single syllable seemed the most
+Jim&#8217;s lips, for the moment, could manage.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Billy told me. He and Ronald Ingram
+came over yesterday afternoon, soon after
+you left. They had passed you, on your way
+to the station. They thought I ought to
+know. So Billy told me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Jim Airth&#8217;s arms closed round her, holding
+her tightly.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234' name='page_234'></a>234</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;My&mdash;poor&mdash;girl!&#8221; he said, brokenly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;They meant well, Jim. They are dear
+boys. They knew you would come back and
+tell me yourself; and they wanted to spare us
+both that pain. I am glad they did it. You
+were quite right when you said it had to be
+faced alone. I could not have been ready for
+your return, if I had not heard the truth, and
+had time to face it alone. I <i>am</i> ready now,
+Jim.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Jim Airth laid his cheek against her soft
+hair, with a groan.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have come to say good-bye, Myra. It
+is all that remains to be said.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good-bye?&#8221; Myra raised a face of terrified
+questioning.</p>
+<p>Jim Airth pressed it back to its hiding-place
+upon his breast.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am the man, Myra, whose hand you
+could never bring yourself to touch in friendship.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Myra lifted her head again. The look in
+her eyes was that of a woman prepared to
+fight for happiness and life.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235' name='page_235'></a>235</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;You are the man,&#8221; she said, &#8220;whose little
+finger is dearer to me than the whole body of
+any one else has ever been. Do you suppose
+I will give you up, Jim, because of a thing
+which happened accidentally in the past,
+before you and I had ever met? Ah, how little
+you men understand a woman&#8217;s heart! Shall
+I tell you what I felt when Billy told me,
+after the first bewildering shock was over?
+First: sorrow for you, my dearest; a realisation
+of how appalling the mental anguish
+must have been, at the time. Secondly:
+thankfulness&mdash;yes, intense overwhelming
+thankfulness&mdash;to know at last what had come
+between us; and to know it was this thing&mdash;this
+mere ghost out of the past&mdash;nothing
+tangible or real; no wrong of mine against
+you, or of yours against me; nothing which
+need divide us.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Jim Airth slowly unlocked his arms, took her
+by the wrists, holding her hands against his
+breast. Then he looked into her eyes with a
+silent sadness, more forcible than speech.</p>
+<p>&#8220;My own poor girl,&#8221; he said, at length;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236' name='page_236'></a>236</span>
+&#8220;it is impossible for me to marry Lord Ingleby&#8217;s
+widow.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The strength of his will mastered hers; and,
+just as in Horseshoe Cove her fears had
+yielded to his dauntless courage, so now
+Myra felt her confidence ebbing away before
+his stern resolve. Fearful of losing it altogether,
+she drew away her hands, and turned
+to the sofa.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Jim,&#8221; she said, &#8220;sit down and let
+us talk it over.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She sank back among the cushions and
+drawing a bowl of roses hastily toward her,
+buried her face in them, fearing again to
+meet the settled sadness of his eyes.</p>
+<p>Jim Airth sat down&mdash;in the chair left
+vacant by Lord Ingleby and Peter.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Listen, dear,&#8221; he said. &#8220;I need not ask
+you never to doubt my love. That would
+be absurd from me to you. I love you as
+I did not know it was possible for a man to
+love a woman. I love you in such a way that
+every fibre of my being will hunger for you
+night and day&mdash;through all the years to come.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237' name='page_237'></a>237</span>
+But&mdash;well, it would always have come hard
+to me to stand in another man&#8217;s shoes, and
+take what had been his. I did not feel this
+when I thought I was following Sergeant
+O&#8217;Mara, because I knew he must always have
+been in all things so utterly apart from you.
+I could, under different circumstances, have
+brought myself to follow Ingleby, because I
+realise that he never awakened in you such
+love as is yours for me. His possessions would
+not have weighted me, because it so happens
+I have lands and houses of my own, where we
+could have lived. But, to stand in a dead
+man&#8217;s shoes, when he is dead through an act
+of mine; to take to myself another man&#8217;s
+widow, when she would still, but for a reckless
+movement of my own right hand, have been
+a wife&mdash;Myra, I could not do it! Even with
+our great love, it would not mean happiness.
+Think of it&mdash;think! As we stood together in
+the sight of God, while the Church, in solemn
+voice, required and charged us both, as we
+should answer at the dreadful day of judgment
+when the secrets of all hearts should be
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238' name='page_238'></a>238</span>
+disclosed, that if either of us knew any impediment
+why we might not be lawfully
+joined together in matrimony, we should then
+confess it&mdash;I should cry: &#8216;Her husband died
+by my hand!&#8217; and leave the church, with the
+brand of Cain, and the infamy of David, upon
+me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Myra lifted frightened eyes; met his, beseechingly;
+then bent again over the roses.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Or, even if I passed through that ordeal,
+standing mute in the solemn silence, what of
+the moment when the Church bade me take
+your right hand in my right hand&mdash;Myra,
+<i>my</i> right hand?&#8221;</p>
+<p>She rose, came swiftly over, and knelt
+before him. She took his hand, and covered
+it with tears and kisses. She held it, sobbing,
+to her heart.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dearest,&#8221; she said, &#8220;I will never ask you
+to do, for my sake, anything you feel impossible
+or wrong. But, oh, in this, I know
+you are mistaken. I cannot argue or explain.
+I cannot put my reasons into words. But
+I <i>know</i> our living, longing, love <i>ought</i> to come
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239' name='page_239'></a>239</span>
+before the happenings of a dead past. Michael
+lost his life through an accident. That the
+accident was caused by a mistake on your part,
+is fearfully hard for you. But there is no
+moral wrong in it. You might as well blame
+the company whose boat took him abroad;
+or the government which decided on the
+expedition; or the War Office people, who
+accepted him when he volunteered. I am
+sure I don&#8217;t know what David did; I thought
+he was a quite excellent person. But I <i>do</i>
+know about Cain; and I am perfectly certain
+that the brand of Cain could never rest on
+anyone, because of an unpremeditated accident.
+Oh, Jim! Cannot you look at it
+reasonably?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I looked at it reasonably&mdash;after a while&mdash;until
+yesterday,&#8221; said Jim Airth. &#8220;At first,
+of course, all was blank, ghastly despair. Oh,
+Myra, let me tell you! I have never been able
+to tell anyone. Go back to the couch; I
+can&#8217;t let you kneel here. Sit down over there,
+and let me tell you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby rose at once and returned to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240' name='page_240'></a>240</span>
+her seat; then sat listening&mdash;her yearning
+eyes fixed upon his bowed head. He had
+momentarily forgotten what the events of that
+night had cost her; so also had she. Her only
+thought was of his pain.</p>
+<p>Jim Airth began to speak, in low, hurried
+tones; haunted with a horror of reminiscence.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I can see it now. The little stuffy tent;
+the hidden light. I was already sickening for
+fever, working with a temperature of 102. I
+hadn&#8217;t slept for two nights, and my head felt
+as if it were two large eyes, and those eyes,
+both bruises. I knew I ought to knock under
+and give the job to another man; but Ingleby
+and I had worked it all out together, and I
+was dead keen on it. It was a place where
+no big guns could go; but our little arrangement
+which you could carry in one hand,
+would do better and surer work, than half a
+dozen big guns.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There was a long wait after Ingleby and
+the other fellow&mdash;it was Ingram&mdash;started.
+Cathcart, left behind with me, was in and out
+of the tent; but he couldn&#8217;t stay still two
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241' name='page_241'></a>241</span>
+minutes; he was afraid of missing the rush.
+So I was alone when the signal came. We
+found afterwards that Ingram had crawled
+out of the tunnel, and gone to take a message
+to the nearest ambush. Ingleby was left
+alone. He signalled: &#8216;Placed,&#8217; as agreed.
+I took it to be &#8216;Fire!&#8217; and acted instantly.
+The moment I had done it, I realised my
+mistake. But that same instant came the
+roar, and the hot silent night was turned to
+pandemonium. I dashed out of the tent,
+shouting for Ingleby. Good God! It was
+like hell! The yelling swearing Tommies,
+making up for the long enforced silence and
+inaction; the hordes of dark devilish faces,
+leering in their fury, and jeering at our discomfiture;
+for inside their outer wall, was a
+rampart of double the strength, and we were
+no nearer taking Targai.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Afterwards&mdash;if I hadn&#8217;t owned up at once
+to my mistake, nobody would have known
+how the thing had happened. Even then,
+they tried to persuade me the wrong signal
+had been given; but I knew better. And on
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242' name='page_242'></a>242</span>
+the spot, it was impossible to find&mdash;well, any
+actual proofs of what had happened. The
+gap had been filled at once with crowds of
+yelling jostling Tommies, mad to get into
+the town. Jove, how those chaps fight when
+they get the chance. When all was over,
+several were missing who were not among the
+dead. They must have forced themselves in
+where they could not get back, and been taken
+prisoners. God alone knows their fate, poor
+beggars. Yet I envied them; for when the
+row was over, my hell began.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Myra, I would have given my whole life
+to have had that minute over again. And it
+was maddening to know that the business
+might have been done all right with any old
+fuse. Only we were so keen over our new
+ideas for signalling, and our portable electric
+apparatus. Oh, good Lord! I knew despair,
+those days and nights! I was down with
+fever, and they took away my sword, and
+guns, and razors. I couldn&#8217;t imagine why.
+Even despair doesn&#8217;t take me that way.
+But if a chap could have come into my
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243' name='page_243'></a>243</span>
+tent and said: &#8216;You didn&#8217;t kill Ingleby
+after all. He&#8217;s all right and alive!&#8217; I would
+have given my life gladly for that moment&#8217;s
+relief. But no present anguish can undo
+a past mistake.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, I pulled through the fever; life had
+to be lived, and I suppose I&#8217;m not the sort of
+chap to take a morbid view. When I found
+the thing was to be kept quiet; when the few
+who knew the ins-and-outs stood by me
+like the good fellows they were, saying it
+might have happened to any of them, and
+as soon as I got fit again I should see the only
+rotten thing would be to let it spoil my future;
+I made up my mind to put it clean away, and
+live it down. You know they say, out in the
+great western country: &#8216;God Almighty hates
+a quitter.&#8217; It is one of the stimulating tenets
+of their fine practical theology. I had fought
+through other hard times. I determined to
+fight through this. I succeeded so well, that
+it even seemed natural to go on with the
+work Ingleby and I had been doing together,
+and carry it through. And when notes of
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244' name='page_244'></a>244</span>
+his were needed, I came to his own home
+without a qualm, to ask his widow&mdash;the
+woman I, by my mistake, had widowed&mdash;for
+permission to have and to use them.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I came&mdash;my mind full of the rich joy of
+life and love, with scarcely room for a passing
+pang of regret, as I entered the house without
+a master, the home without a head, knowing
+I was about to meet the woman I had widowed.
+Truly &#8216;The mills of God grind slowly, but they
+grind exceeding small.&#8217; I had thrown off too
+easily what should have been a lifelong burden
+of regret.</p>
+<p>&#8220;In the woman I had widowed I found&mdash;the
+woman I was about to wed! Good God!
+Was there ever so hard a retribution?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Jim,&#8221; said Myra, gently, &#8220;is there not
+another side to the picture? Does it not strike
+you that it should have seemed beautiful to
+find that God in His wonderful providence
+had put you in a position to be able to take
+care of Michael&#8217;s widow, left so helpless and
+alone; that in saving her life by the strength
+of your right hand, you had atoned for the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245' name='page_245'></a>245</span>
+death that hand had unwittingly dealt; that,
+though the past cannot be undone, it can
+sometimes be wiped out by the present?
+Oh, Jim! Cannot you see it thus, and keep
+and hold the right to take care of me forever?
+My belovèd! Let us never, from this moment,
+part. I will come away with you at once.
+We can get a special licence, and be married
+immediately. We will let Shenstone, and let
+the house in Park Lane, and live abroad, anywhere
+you will, Jim; only together&mdash;together!
+Take me away to-day. Maggie O&#8217;Mara can
+attend me, until we are married. But I
+can&#8217;t face life without you. Jim&mdash;I can&#8217;t!
+God knows, I can&#8217;t!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Jim Airth looked up, a gleam of hope in his
+sad eyes.</p>
+<p>Then he looked away, that her appealing
+loveliness might not too much tempt him,
+while making his decision. He lifted his eyes;
+and, alas! they fell on the portrait over the
+mantelpiece.</p>
+<p>He shivered.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I can never marry Lord Ingleby&#8217;s widow,&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246' name='page_246'></a>246</span>
+he said. &#8220;Myra, how can you wish it? The
+thing would haunt us! It would be evil&mdash;unnatural.
+Night and day, it would be there.
+It would come between us. Some day you
+would reproach me&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, hush!&#8221; cried Myra, sharply. &#8220;Not
+that! I am suffering enough. At least spare
+me that!&#8221; Then, putting aside once more
+her own pain: &#8220;Would it not be happiness
+to you, Jim?&#8221; she asked, with wistful
+gentleness.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Happiness?&#8221; cried Jim Airth, violently,
+&#8220;It would be hell!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby rose, her face as white as
+the large arum lily in the corner behind
+her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then that settles it,&#8221; she said; &#8220;and, do
+you know, I think we had better not speak of
+it any more. I am going to ring for tea.
+And, if you will excuse me for a few moments,
+while they are bringing it, I will search among
+my husband&#8217;s papers, and try to find those
+you require for your book.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She passed swiftly out. Through the closed
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247' name='page_247'></a>247</span>
+door, the man she left alone heard her giving
+quiet orders in the hall.</p>
+<p>He crossed the room, in two great strides, to
+follow her. But at the door he paused; turned,
+and came slowly back.</p>
+<p>He stood on the hearthrug, with bent head;
+rigid, motionless.</p>
+<p>Suddenly he lifted his eyes to Lord Ingleby&#8217;s
+portrait.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Curse you!&#8221; he said through clenched
+teeth, and beat his fists upon the marble
+mantelpiece. &#8220;Curse your explosives! And
+curse your inventions! And curse you for
+taking her first!&#8221; Then he dropped into a
+chair, and buried his face in his hands. &#8220;Oh,
+God forgive me!&#8221; he whispered, brokenly.
+&#8220;But there is a limit to what a man can bear.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He scarcely noticed the entrance of the footman
+who brought tea. But when a lighter
+step paused at the door, he lifted a haggard
+face, expecting to see Myra.</p>
+<p>A quiet woman entered, simply dressed in
+black merino. Her white linen collar and
+cuffs gave her the look of a hospital nurse.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248' name='page_248'></a>248</span>
+Her dark hair, neatly parted, was smoothly
+coiled around her head. She came in, deferentially;
+yet with a quiet dignity of manner.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have come to pour your tea, my lord,&#8221;
+she said. &#8220;Lady Ingleby is not well, and
+fears she must remain in her room. She
+asks me to give you these papers.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Then the Earl of Airth and Monteith rose
+to his feet, and held out his hand.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I think you must be Mrs. O&#8217;Mara,&#8221; he
+said. &#8220;I am glad to meet you, and it is kind
+of you to give me tea. I have heard of you
+before; and I believe I saw you yesterday, on
+the steps of your pretty house, as I drove up
+the avenue. Will you allow me to tell you
+how often, when we stood shoulder to shoulder
+in times of difficulty and danger, I had reason
+to respect and admire the brave comrade I
+knew as Sergeant O&#8217;Mara?&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>Before quitting Shenstone, Jim Airth sat at
+Myra&#8217;s davenport and wrote a letter, leaving it
+with Mrs. O&#8217;Mara to place in Lady Ingleby&#8217;s
+hands as soon as he had gone.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249' name='page_249'></a>249</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I do not wonder you felt unable to see me
+again. Forgive me for all the grief I have
+caused, and am causing, you. I shall go
+abroad as soon as may be; but am obliged to
+remain in town until I have completed work
+which I am under contract with my publishers
+to finish. It will take a month, at most.</p>
+<p>&#8220;If you want me, Myra&mdash;I mean if you
+<i>need</i> me&mdash;I could come at any moment. A
+wire to my Club would always find me.</p>
+<div class='ra'>
+<p style=' margin-right:8em;'>&#8220;May I know how you are?</p>
+<p style=' margin-right:4em;'>&#8221;Wholly yours,</p>
+<p>&#8220;<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Jim Airth</span>.&#8221;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>To this Lady Ingleby replied on the following
+day.</p>
+<p>&#8220;<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Dear Jim</span>,</p>
+<p>&#8220;I shall always want you; but I could
+never send unless the coming would mean
+happiness for you.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I know you decided as you felt right,</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am quite well.</p>
+<div class='ra'>
+<p style=' margin-right:8em;'>&#8220;God bless you always.</p>
+<p>&#8220;<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Myra.</span>&#8221;</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XX_A_BETTER_POINT_OF_VIEW' id='XX_A_BETTER_POINT_OF_VIEW'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250' name='page_250'></a>250</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2>
+<h3>A BETTER POINT OF VIEW</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>In the days which followed, Jim Airth suffered
+all the pangs which come to a man who
+has made a decision prompted by pride rather
+than by conviction.</p>
+<p>It had always seemed to him essential that
+a man should appear in all things without
+shame or blame in the eyes of the woman he
+loved. Therefore, to be obliged suddenly to
+admit that a fatal blunder of his own had
+been the cause, even in the past, of irreparable
+loss and sorrow to her, had been an unacknowledged
+but intolerable humiliation. That she
+should have anything to overlook or to forgive
+in accepting himself and his love, was a condition
+of things to which he could not bring
+himself to submit; and her sweet generosity
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251' name='page_251'></a>251</span>
+and devotion, rather increased than soothed
+his sense of wounded pride.</p>
+<p>He had been superficially honest in the
+reasons he had given to Myra regarding the
+impossibility of marriage between them. He
+had said all the things which he knew others
+might be expected to say; he had mercilessly
+expressed what would have been his own
+judgment had he been asked to pronounce
+an opinion concerning any other man and
+woman in like circumstances. As he voiced
+them they had sounded tragically plausible
+and stoically just. He knew he was inflicting
+almost unbearable pain upon himself and upon
+the woman whose whole love was his; but that
+pain seemed necessary to the tragic demands
+of the entire ghastly situation.</p>
+<p>Only after he had finally left her and was on
+his way back to town, did Jim Airth realise
+that the pain he had thus inflicted upon her
+and upon himself, had been a solace to his
+own wounded pride. His had been the
+mistake, and it re-established him in his own
+self-respect and sense of superiority, that his
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252' name='page_252'></a>252</span>
+should be the decision, so hard to make&mdash;so
+unfalteringly made&mdash;bringing down upon
+his own head a punishment out of all proportion
+to the fault committed.</p>
+<p>But, now that the strain and tension were
+over, his natural honesty of mind reasserted
+itself, forcing him to admit that his own selfish
+pride had been at the bottom of his high-flown
+tragedy.</p>
+<p>Myra&#8217;s simple loving view of the case had
+been the right one; yet, thrusting it from him,
+he had ruthlessly plunged himself and her into
+a hopeless abyss of needless suffering.</p>
+<p>By degrees he slowly realised that in so
+doing he had deliberately inflicted a more cruel
+wrong upon the woman he loved, than that
+which he had unwittingly done her in the past.</p>
+<p>Remorse and regret gnawed at his heart,
+added to an almost unbearable hunger for
+Myra. Yet he could not bring himself to
+return to her with this second and still more
+humiliating confession of failure.</p>
+<p>His one hope was that Myra would find
+their separation impossible to endure, and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253' name='page_253'></a>253</span>
+would send for him. But the days went by,
+and Myra made no sign. She had said she
+would never send for him unless assured
+that coming to her would mean happiness
+to him. To this decision she quietly adhered.</p>
+<p>In a strongly virile man, love towards a
+woman is, in its essential qualities, naturally
+selfish. Its keynote is, &#8220;I need&#8221;; its dominant,
+&#8220;I want&#8221;; its full major chord, &#8220;I must
+possess.&#8221;</p>
+<p>On the other hand, the woman&#8217;s love for the
+man is essentially unselfish. Its keynote is,
+&#8220;He needs&#8221;; its dominant, &#8220;I am his, to do
+with as he pleases&#8221;; its full major chord,
+&#8220;Let me give all.&#8221; In the Book of Canticles,
+one of the greatest love-poems ever written,
+we find this truth exemplified; we see the
+woman&#8217;s heart learning its lesson, in a fine
+crescendo of self-surrender. In the first stanza
+she says: &#8220;My Belovèd is mine, and I am
+his&#8221;; in the second, &#8220;I am my Belovèd&#8217;s and
+he is mine.&#8221; But in the third, all else is
+merged in the instinctive joy of giving: &#8220;I
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_254' name='page_254'></a>254</span>
+am my Belovèd&#8217;s, and his desire is towards
+me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>This is the natural attitude of the sexes,
+designed by an all-wise Creator; but designed
+for a condition of ideal perfection. No
+perfect law could be framed for imperfection.
+Therefore, if the working out prove often a
+failure, the fault lies in the imperfection of
+the workers, not in the perfection of the law.
+In those rare cases where the love is ideal, the
+man&#8217;s &#8220;I take&#8221; and the woman&#8217;s &#8220;I give&#8221;
+blend into an ideal union, each completing
+and modifying the other. But where sin of
+any kind comes in, a false note has been
+struck in the divine harmony, and the grand
+chord of mutual love fails to ring true.</p>
+<p>Into their perfect love, Jim Airth had introduced
+the discord of false pride. It had
+become the basis of his line of action, and their
+symphony of life, so beautiful at first in its
+sweet theme of mutual love and trust, now lost
+its harmony, and jarred into a hopeless jangle.
+The very fact that she faithfully adhered to
+her trustful unselfishness, acquiescing without
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_255' name='page_255'></a>255</span>
+a murmur in his decision, made readjustment
+the more impossible. Thus the weeks
+went by.</p>
+<p>Jim Airth worked feverishly at his proofs;
+drinking and smoking, when he should have
+been eating and sleeping; going off suddenly,
+after two or three days of continuous sitting
+at his desk, on desperate bouts of violent
+exercise.</p>
+<p>He walked down to Shenstone by night;
+sat, in bitterness of spirit under the beeches,
+surrounded by empty wicker chairs;&mdash;a silent
+ghostly garden-party!&mdash;watched the dawn
+break over the lake; prowled around the house
+where Lady Ingleby lay sleeping, and narrowly
+escaped arrest at the hands of Lady Ingleby&#8217;s
+night-watchman; leaving for London by the
+first train in the morning, more sick at heart
+than when he started.</p>
+<p>Another time he suddenly turned in at
+Paddington, took the train down to Cornwall,
+and astonished the Miss Murgatroyds by
+stalking into the coffee-room, the gaunt
+ghost of his old gay self. Afterwards he
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_256' name='page_256'></a>256</span>
+went off to Horseshoe Cove, climbed the
+cliff and spent the night on the ledge,
+dwelling in morbid misery on the wonderful
+memories with which that place was surrounded.</p>
+<p>It was then that fresh hope, and the complete
+acceptance of a better point of view,
+came to Jim Airth.</p>
+<p>As he sat on the ledge, hugging his lonely
+misery, he suddenly became strangely conscious
+of Myra&#8217;s presence. It was as if the
+sweet wistful grey eyes, were turned upon
+him in the darkness; the tender mouth smiled
+lovingly, while the voice he knew so well asked
+in soft merriment, as under the beeches at
+Shenstone: &#8220;What has come to you, you
+dearest old boy?&#8221;</p>
+<p>He had just put his hand into his pocket
+and drawn out his spirit-flask. He held it for
+a moment, while he listened, spellbound, to
+that whisper; then flung it away into the
+darkness, far down to the sea below. &#8220;Davy
+Jones may have it,&#8221; he said, and laughed aloud;
+&#8220;<i>who e&#8217;er he be!</i>&#8221; It was the first time Jim
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_257' name='page_257'></a>257</span>
+Airth had laughed since that afternoon beneath
+the Shenstone beeches.</p>
+<p>Then, with the sense of Myra&#8217;s presence
+still so near him, he lay with his back to the
+cliff, his face to the moonlit sea. It seemed
+to him as if again he drew her, shaking and
+trembling but unresisting, into his arms, holding
+her there in safety until her trembling
+ceased, and she slept the untroubled sleep of a
+happy child.</p>
+<p>All the best and noblest in Jim Airth awoke
+at that hallowed memory of faithful strength
+on his part, and trustful peace on hers.</p>
+<p>&#8220;My God,&#8221; he said, &#8220;what a nightmare
+it has been! And what a fool, I, to think
+anything could come between us. Has she
+not been utterly mine since that sacred night
+spent here? And I have left her to loneliness
+and grief?.... I will arise and go to my
+belovèd. No past, no shame, no pride of
+mine, shall come between us any more.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He raised himself on his elbow and looked
+over the edge. The moonlight shone on
+rippling water lapping the foot of the cliff.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_258' name='page_258'></a>258</span>
+He could see his watch by its bright light.
+Midnight! He must wait until three, for the
+tide to go down. He leaned back again, his
+arms folded across his chest; but Myra was
+still safely within them.</p>
+<p>Two minutes later, Jim Airth slept soundly.</p>
+<p>The dawn awoke him. He scrambled down
+to the shore, and once again swam up the
+golden path toward the rising sun.</p>
+<p>As he got back into his clothes, it seemed
+to him that every vestige of that black nightmare
+had been left behind in the gay tossing
+waters.</p>
+<p>On his way to the railway station, he passed
+a farm. The farmer&#8217;s wife had been up since
+sunrise, churning. She gladly gave him a
+simple breakfast of home-made bread, with
+butter fresh from the churn.</p>
+<p>He caught the six o&#8217;clock express for town;
+tubbed, shaved, and lunched, at his Club.</p>
+<p>At a quarter to three he was just coming
+down the steps into Piccadilly, very consciously
+&#8220;clothed and in his right mind,&#8221; debating
+which train he could take for Shenstone if&mdash;as
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_259' name='page_259'></a>259</span>
+in duty bound&mdash;he looked in at his publishers&#8217;
+first; when a telegraph boy dashed
+up the steps into the Club, and the next
+moment the hall-porter hastened after him
+with a telegram.</p>
+<p>Jim Airth read it; took one look at his watch;
+then jumped headlong into a passing taxicab.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Charing Cross!&#8221; he shouted to the
+chauffeur. &#8220;And a sovereign if you do it in
+five minutes.&#8221;</p>
+<p>As the flag tinged down, and the taxi
+glided swiftly forward into the whirl of traffic,
+Jim Airth unfolded the telegram and read it
+again.</p>
+<p>It had been handed in at Shenstone at 2.15.</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Come to me at once.</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Myra.</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>A shout of exultation arose within him.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XXI_MICHAEL_VERITAS' id='XXI_MICHAEL_VERITAS'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_260' name='page_260'></a>260</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2>
+<h3>MICHAEL VERITAS</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>On the morning of that day, while Jim
+Airth, braced with a new resolve and a
+fresh outlook on life, was speeding up from
+Cornwall, Lady Ingleby sat beneath the
+scarlet chestnuts, watching Ronald and Billy
+play tennis.</p>
+<p>They had entered for a tournament, and discovered
+that they required constant practice
+such as, apparently, could only be obtained
+at Shenstone. In reality they came over
+so frequently in honest-hearted trouble and
+anxiety over their friend, of whose unexpected
+sorrow they chanced to be the sole confidants.
+Lady Ingleby refused herself to all other
+visitors. In the trying uncertainty of these
+few weeks while Jim Airth was still in England,
+she dreaded questions or comments. To
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_261' name='page_261'></a>261</span>
+Jane Dalmain she had written the whole truth.
+The Dalmains were at Worcester, attending
+a musical festival in that noblest of English
+cathedrals; but they expected soon to return
+to Overdene, when Jane had promised to come
+to her.</p>
+<p>Meanwhile Ronald and Billy turned up
+often, doing their valiant best to be cheerful;
+but Myra&#8217;s fragile look, and large pathetic eyes,
+alarmed and horrified them. Obviously things
+had gone more hopelessly wrong than they
+had anticipated. They had known at once
+that Airth would not marry Lady Ingleby;
+but it had never occurred to them that Lady
+Ingleby would still wish to marry Airth.
+Ronald stoutly denied that this was the case;
+but Billy affirmed it, though refusing to give
+reasons.</p>
+<p>Ronald had never succeeded in extorting
+from Billy one word of what had taken place
+when he had told Lady Ingleby that Jim
+Airth was the man.</p>
+<p>&#8220;If you wanted to know how she took it,
+you should have told her yourself,&#8221; said
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_262' name='page_262'></a>262</span>
+Billy. &#8220;And it will be a saving of useless
+trouble, Ron, if you never ask me again.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Thus the days went by; and, though she
+always seemed gently pleased to see them
+both, no possible opening had been given
+to Ronald for assuming the rôle of manly
+comforter.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I shall give it up,&#8221; said Ronnie at last, in
+bitterness of spirit; &#8220;I tell you, I shall give
+it up; and marry the duchess!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t be profane,&#8221; counselled Billy. &#8220;It
+would be more to the point to find Airth, and
+explain to him, in carefully chosen language,
+that letting Lady Ingleby die of a broken
+heart will not atone for blowing up her husband.
+I always knew our news would make
+no difference, from the moment I saw her go
+quite pink when she told us his name. She
+never went pink over Ingleby, you bet! I
+didn&#8217;t know they could do it, after twenty.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Much you know, then!&#8221; ejaculated Ronnie,
+scornfully. &#8220;I&#8217;ve seen the duchess go
+pink.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Scarlet, you mean,&#8221; amended Billy. &#8220;So
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_263' name='page_263'></a>263</span>
+have I, old chap; but that&#8217;s another pair o&#8217;
+boots, as you very well know.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, don&#8217;t be vulgar,&#8221; sighed Ronnie,
+wearily. &#8220;Let&#8217;s cut the whole thing and go
+to town. Henley begins to-morrow.&#8221;</p>
+<p>But next day they turned up at Shenstone,
+earlier than usual.</p>
+<p>And that morning, Lady Ingleby was feeling
+strangely restful and at peace; not with any
+expectations of future happiness; but resigned
+to the inevitable; and less apart from Jim
+Airth. She had fallen asleep the night before
+beset by haunting memories of Cornwall and
+of their climb up the cliff. At midnight she
+had awakened with a start, fancying herself on
+the ledge, and feeling that she was falling.
+But instantly Jim Airth&#8217;s arms seemed to enfold
+her; she felt herself drawn into safety;
+then that exquisite sense of strength and rest
+was hers once more.</p>
+<p>So vivid had been the dream, that its effect
+remained with her when she rose. Thus she
+sat watching the tennis with a little smile of
+content on her sweet face.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_264' name='page_264'></a>264</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;She is beginning to forget,&#8221; thought
+Ronnie, exultant. &#8220;<i>My</i> &#8217;vantage!&#8221; he shouted
+significantly to Billy, over the net.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Deuce!&#8221; responded Billy, smashing down
+the ball with unnecessary violence.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No!&#8221; cried Ronnie. &#8220;Outside, my boy!
+Game and a &#8216;love&#8217; set to me!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Stay to lunch, boys,&#8221; said Lady Ingleby,
+as the gong sounded; and they all three went
+gaily into the house.</p>
+<p>As they passed through the hall afterwards,
+their motor stood at the door; so they bade
+her good-bye, and turned to find their rackets.</p>
+<p>At that moment they heard the sharp ting
+of a bicycle bell. A boy had ridden up with
+a telegram. Groatley, waiting to see them
+off, took it; picked up a silver salver from the
+hall table, and followed Lady Ingleby to her
+sitting-room.</p>
+<p>There seemed so sudden a silence in the
+house, that Ronald and Billy with one accord
+stood listening.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Twenty minutes to two,&#8221; said Billy,
+glancing at the clock. &#8220;Spirits are walking.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_265' name='page_265'></a>265</span></p>
+<p>The next moment a cry rang out from Lady
+Ingleby&#8217;s sitting-room&mdash;a cry of such mingled
+bewilderment, wonder, and relief, that they
+looked at one another in amazement. Then
+without waiting to question or consider, they
+hastened to her.</p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby was standing in the middle
+of the room, an open telegram in her hand.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Jim,&#8221; she was saying; &#8220;Oh, Jim!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Her face was so transfigured by thankfulness
+and joy, that neither Ronald nor Billy could
+frame a question. They merely gazed at
+her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Billy! Oh, Ronald!&#8221; she said, &#8220;<i>He
+didn&#8217;t do it!</i> Oh think what this will mean
+to Jim Airth. Stop the boy! Quick! Bring
+me a telegram form. I must send for him at
+once.... Oh, Jim, Jim!.... He said he
+would give his life for the relief of the moment
+when some one should step into the tent and
+tell him he had not done it; and now I shall
+be that &#8216;some one&#8217;!.... Oh, <i>how</i> do you
+spell &#8216;Piccadilly&#8217;.... Please call Groatley.
+If we lose no time, he may catch the three
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_266' name='page_266'></a>266</span>
+o&#8217;clock express.... Groatley, tell the boy
+to take this telegram and have it sent off
+immediately. Give him half-a-crown, and say
+he may keep the change.... Now boys.... Shut
+the door!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The whirlwind of excitement was succeeded
+by sudden stillness. Lady Ingleby sank upon
+the sofa, burying her face for a moment in the
+cushions.</p>
+<p>In the silence they heard the telegraph
+boy disappearing rapidly into the distance,
+ringing his bell a very unnecessary number
+of times. When it could be heard no longer,
+Lady Ingleby lifted her head.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Michael is alive,&#8221; she said.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Great Scot!&#8221; exclaimed Ronnie, and took
+a step forward.</p>
+<p>Billy made no sound, but he turned very
+white; backed to the door, and leaned against
+it for support.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Think what it means to Jim Airth!&#8221;
+said Lady Ingleby. &#8220;Think of the despair
+and misery through which he passed; and, after
+all, he had not done it.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_267' name='page_267'></a>267</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;May we see?&#8221; asked Ronald eagerly,
+holding out his hand for the telegram.</p>
+<p>Billy licked his dry lips, but no sound would
+come.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Read it,&#8221; said Myra.</p>
+<p>Ronald took the telegram and read it aloud.</p>
+<div class='blockquot'>
+<p>&#8220;<i>To Lady Ingleby, Shenstone Park, Shenstone, England.</i></p>
+<p>&#8220;<i>Reported death a mistake. Taken prisoner
+Targai. Escaped. Arrived Cairo. Large
+bribes and rewards to pay. Cable five hundred
+pounds to Cook&#8217;s immediately.</i></p>
+<p>&#8220;<i>Michael Veritas.</i>&#8221;</p>
+</div>
+<p>&#8220;Great Scot!&#8221; said Ronnie again.</p>
+<p>Billy said nothing; but his eyes never left
+Lady Ingleby&#8217;s radiant face.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Think what it will mean to Jim Airth,&#8221;
+she repeated.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Er&mdash;yes,&#8221; said Ronnie. &#8220;It considerably
+changes the situation&mdash;for him. What does
+&#8216;Veritas&#8217; mean?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That,&#8221; replied Lady Ingleby &#8220;is our
+private code, Michael&#8217;s and mine. My mother
+once wired to me in Michael&#8217;s name, and to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_268' name='page_268'></a>268</span>
+Michael in mine&mdash;dear mamma occasionally
+does eccentric things&mdash;and it made complications.
+Michael was very much annoyed;
+and after that we took to signing our telegrams
+&#8216;Veritas,&#8217; which means: &#8216;This is really from
+me.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Just think!&#8221; said Ronnie. &#8220;He, a prisoner;
+and we, all marching away! But I remember
+now, we always suspected prisoners had
+been taken at Targai. And positive proofs of
+Lord Ingleby&#8217;s death were difficult to&mdash;well,
+don&#8217;t you know&mdash;to find. I mean&mdash;there
+couldn&#8217;t be a funeral. We had to conclude
+it, because we believed him to have been
+right inside the tunnel. He must have got
+clear after all, before Airth sent the flash, and
+getting in with the first rush, been unable to
+return. Of course he has reached Cairo with
+no money and no means of getting home.
+And the chaps who helped him, will stick to
+him like leeches till they get their pay. What
+shall you do about cabling?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby seemed to collect her thoughts
+with difficulty.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_269' name='page_269'></a>269</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Of course the money must be sent&mdash;and
+sent at once,&#8221; she said. &#8220;Oh, Ronnie, <i>could</i>
+you go up to town about it, for me? I would
+give you a cheque, and a note to my bankers;
+they will know how to cable it through.
+Could you, Ronnie? Michael must not be
+kept waiting; yet I must stay here to tell Jim.
+It never struck me that I might have gone
+up to town myself; and now I have wired to
+Jim to come down here. Oh, my dear Ronnie,
+could you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of course I could,&#8221; said Ronald, cheerfully.
+&#8220;The motor is at the door. I can catch the
+two-thirty, if you write the note at once.
+No need for a cheque. Just write a few lines
+authorising your bankers to send out the
+money; I will see them personally; explain the
+whole thing, and hurry them up. The money
+shall be in Cairo to-night, if possible.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby went to her davenport.</p>
+<p>No sound broke the stillness save the rapid
+scratching of her pen.</p>
+<p>Then Billy spoke. &#8220;I will come with you,&#8221;
+he said, hoarsely.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_270' name='page_270'></a>270</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Why do that?&#8221; objected Ronald. &#8220;You
+may as well go on in the motor to Overdene,
+and tell them there.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am going to town,&#8221; said Billy, decidedly.
+Then he walked over to where the telegram
+still lay on the table. &#8220;May I copy this?&#8221;
+he asked of Lady Ingleby.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do,&#8221; she said, without looking round.</p>
+<p>&#8220;And Ronnie&mdash;you take the original to
+show them at the bank. Ah, no! I must
+keep that for Jim. Here is paper. Make
+two copies, Billy.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Billy had already copied the message into
+his pocket-book. With shaking fingers he
+copied it again, handing the sheet to Ronald,
+without looking at him.</p>
+<p>The note written, Lady Ingleby rose.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thank you, Ronald,&#8221; she said. &#8220;Thank
+you, more than I can say. I think you will
+catch the train. And good-bye, Billy.&#8221;</p>
+<p>But Billy was already in the motor.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XXII_LORD_INGLEBY_S_WIFE' id='XXII_LORD_INGLEBY_S_WIFE'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_271' name='page_271'></a>271</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXII</h2>
+<h3>LORD INGLEBY&#8217;S WIFE</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>The journey down from town had been as
+satisfactorily rapid as even Jim Airth
+could desire. He had caught the train at
+Charing Cross by five seconds.</p>
+<p>The hour&#8217;s run passed quickly in glowing
+anticipation of that which was being brought
+nearer by every turn of the wheels.</p>
+<p>Myra&#8217;s telegram was drawn from his pocket-book
+many times. Each word seemed fraught
+with tender meaning, &#8220;<i>Come to me at once.</i>&#8221;
+It was so exactly Myra&#8217;s simple direct method
+of expression. Most people would have said,
+&#8220;Come here,&#8221; or &#8220;Come to Shenstone,&#8221; or
+merely &#8220;Come.&#8221; &#8220;Come <i>to me</i>&#8221; seemed a
+tender, though unconscious, response to his
+resolution of the night before: &#8220;I will arise and
+go to my belovèd.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_272' name='page_272'></a>272</span></p>
+<p>Now that the parting was nearly over, he
+realised how terrible had been the blank of
+three weeks spent apart from Myra. Her
+sweet personality was so knit into his life,
+that he needed her&mdash;not at any particular
+time, or in any particular way&mdash;but always;
+as the air he breathed; or as the light, which
+made the day.</p>
+<p>And she? He drew a well-worn letter from
+his pocket-book&mdash;the only letter he had ever
+had from Myra.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I shall always want you,&#8221; it said; &#8220;but I
+could never send, unless the coming would
+mean happiness for you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Yet she <i>had</i> sent. Then she had happiness
+in store for him. Had she instinctively
+realised his change of mind? Or had she
+gauged his desperate hunger by her own, and
+understood that the satisfying of that, <i>must</i>
+mean happiness, whatever else of sorrow might
+lie in the background?</p>
+<p>But there should be no background of
+anything but perfect joy, when Myra was
+his wife. Would he not have the turning
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_273' name='page_273'></a>273</span>
+of the fair leaves of her book of life? Each
+page should unfold fresh happiness, hold
+new surprises as to what life and love
+could mean. He would know how to guard
+her from the faintest shadow of disillusion.
+Even now it was his right to keep her from
+that. How much, after all, should he tell
+her of the heart-searchings of these wretched
+weeks? Last night he had meant to tell her
+everything; he had meant to say: &#8220;I have
+sinned against heaven&mdash;the heaven of our
+love&mdash;and before thee; and am no more
+worthy....&#8221; But was it not essential to a
+woman&#8217;s happiness to believe the man she
+loved, to be in all ways, worthy? Out of his
+pocket came again the well-worn letter. &#8220;I
+know you decided as you felt right,&#8221; wrote
+Myra. Why perplex her with explanations?
+Let the dead past bury its dead. No need
+to cloud, even momentarily, the joy with which
+they could now go forward into a new
+life. And what a life! Wedded life with
+Myra&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Shenstone Junction!&#8221; shouted a porter
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_274' name='page_274'></a>274</span>
+and Jim Airth was across the platform before
+the train had stopped.</p>
+<p>The tandem ponies waited outside the station,
+and this time Jim Airth gathered up the
+reins with a gay smile, flicking the leader,
+lightly. Before, he had said: &#8220;I never drive
+other people&#8217;s ponies,&#8221; in response to &#8220;Her
+ladyship&#8217;s&#8221; message; but now&mdash;&#8220;All that&#8217;s
+mine, is thine, laddie.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He whistled &#8220;Huntingtower,&#8221; as he drove
+between the hayfields. Sprays of overhanging
+traveller&#8217;s-joy brushed his shoulder in the
+narrow lanes. It was good to be alive on
+such a day. It was good not to be leaving
+England, in England&#8217;s most perfect weather.... Should
+he take her home to Scotland
+for their honeymoon, or down to Cornwall?</p>
+<p>What a jolly little church!</p>
+<p>Evidently Myra never slacked pace for a
+gate. How the ponies dashed through, and
+into the avenue!</p>
+<p>Poor Mrs. O&#8217;Mara! It had been difficult
+to be civil to her, when she had appeared instead
+of Myra to give him tea.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_275' name='page_275'></a>275</span></p>
+<p>Of course Scotland would be jolly, with so
+much to show her; but Cornwall meant more,
+in its associations. Yes; he would arrange
+for the honeymoon in Cornwall; be married in
+the morning, up in town; no fuss; then go
+straight down to the old Moorhead Inn. And
+after dinner, they would sit in the honeysuckle
+arbour, and&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+<p>Groatley showed him into Myra&#8217;s sitting-room.</p>
+<p>She was not there.</p>
+<p>He walked over to the mantelpiece. It
+seemed years since that evening when, in a
+sudden fury against Fate, he had crashed his
+fists upon its marble edge. He raised his eyes
+to Lord Ingleby&#8217;s portrait. Poor old chap!
+He looked so content, and so pleased with
+himself, and his little dog. But he must have
+always appeared more like Myra&#8217;s father than
+her&mdash;than anything else.</p>
+<p>On the mantelpiece lay a telegram. After
+the manner of leisurely country post-offices,
+the full address was written on the envelope.
+It caught Jim Airth&#8217;s eye, and hardly conscious
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_276' name='page_276'></a>276</span>
+of doing so, he took it up and read it.
+&#8220;<i>Lady Ingleby, Shenstone Park, England.</i>&#8221;
+He laid it down. &#8220;England?&#8221; he wondered,
+idly. &#8220;Who can have been wiring to her
+from abroad?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Then he turned. He had not heard her
+enter; but she was standing behind him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Myra!&#8221; he cried, and caught her to his
+heart.</p>
+<p>The rapture and relief of that moment were
+unspeakable. No words seemed possible.
+He could only strain her to him, silently, with
+all his strength, and realise that she was
+safely there at last.</p>
+<p>Myra had lifted her arms, and laid them
+lightly about his neck, hiding her face upon
+his breast.... He never knew exactly when
+he began to realise a subtle change about the
+quality of her embrace; the woman&#8217;s passionate
+tenderness seemed missing; it rather
+resembled the trustful clinging of a little child.
+An uneasy foreboding, for which he could not
+account, assailed Jim Airth.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Kiss me, Myra!&#8221; he said, peremptorily,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_277' name='page_277'></a>277</span>
+and she, lifting her sweet face to his, kissed
+him at once. But it was the pure loving kiss
+of a little child.</p>
+<p>Then she withdrew herself from his embrace;
+and, standing back, he looked at her, perplexed.
+The light upon her face seemed
+hardly earthly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Jim,&#8221; she said, &#8220;God&#8217;s ways are wonderful!
+I have such news for you, my friend.
+I thank God, it came before you had gone
+beyond recall. And I, who had been the
+one, unwittingly, to add so terribly to the
+weight of the lifelong cross you had to bear,
+am privileged to be the one to lift it quite
+away. Jim&mdash;<i>you did not do it!</i>&#8221;</p>
+<p>Jim Airth gazed at her in troubled amazement.
+Into his mind, involuntarily, came the
+awesome Scotch word &#8220;fey.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I did not do what, dear?&#8221; he asked,
+gently, as if he were speaking to a little child
+whom he was anxious not to frighten.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You did not kill Michael.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What makes you think I did not kill
+Michael, dear?&#8221; questioned Jim Airth, gently.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_278' name='page_278'></a>278</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Because,&#8221; said Myra, with clasped hands,
+&#8220;Michael is alive.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dearest heart,&#8221; said Jim Airth, tenderly,
+&#8220;you are not well. These awful three weeks,
+and what went before, have been too much for
+you. The strain has upset you. I was a
+brute to go off and leave you. But you
+knew I did what I thought right at the time;
+didn&#8217;t you, Myra? Only now I see the whole
+thing quite differently. Your view was the
+true one. We ought to have acted upon it,
+and been married at once.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Jim,&#8221; said Myra, &#8220;thank God we
+didn&#8217;t! It would have been so terrible now.
+It must have been a case of &#8216;Even there shall
+Thy hand lead me, and Thy right hand shall
+hold me.&#8217; In our unconscious ignorance, we
+might have gone away together, not knowing
+Michael was alive.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Beads of perspiration stood on Jim Airth&#8217;s
+forehead.</p>
+<p>&#8220;My darling, you are ill,&#8221; he said, in a voice
+of agonised anxiety. &#8220;I am afraid you are
+very ill. Do sit down quietly on the couch,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_279' name='page_279'></a>279</span>
+and let me ring. I must speak to the O&#8217;Mara
+woman, or somebody. Why didn&#8217;t the fools
+let me know? Have you been ill all these
+weeks?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Myra let him place her on the couch;
+smiling up at him reassuringly, as he stood
+before her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You must not ring the bell, Jim,&#8221; she said.
+&#8220;Maggie is at the Lodge; and Groatley would
+be so astonished. I am quite well.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He looked around, in man-like helplessness;
+yet feeling something must be done. A long
+ivory fan, of exquisite workmanship, lay on a
+table near. He caught it up, and handed it
+to her. She took it; and to please him,
+opened it, fanning herself gently as she talked.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am not ill, Jim; really dear, I am not.
+I am only strangely happy and thankful. It
+seems too wonderful for our poor earthly hearts
+to understand. And I am a little frightened
+about the future&mdash;but you will help me to
+face that, I know. And I am rather worried
+about little things I have done wrong. It
+seems foolish&mdash;but as soon as I realised
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_280' name='page_280'></a>280</span>
+Michael was coming home, I became conscious
+of hosts of sins of omission, and I scarcely
+know where to begin to set them right. And
+the worst of all is&mdash;Jim! we have lost little
+Peter&#8217;s grave! No one seems able to locate
+it. It is so trying of the gardeners; and so
+wrong of me; because of course I ought to
+have planted it with flowers. And Michael
+would have expected a little marble slab, by
+now. But I, stupidly, was too ill to see to the
+funeral; and now Anson declares they put
+him in the plantation, and George swears it
+was in the shrubbery. I have been consulting
+Groatley who always has ideas, and expresses
+them so well, and he says: &#8216;Choose a suitable
+spot, m&#8217; lady; order a handsome tomb; plant
+it with choice flowers; and who&#8217;s to be the
+wiser, till the resurrection?&#8217; Groatley is
+always resourceful; but of course I never
+deceive Michael. Fancy little Peter rising
+from the shrubbery, when Michael had
+mourned for years over a marble tomb on the
+lawn! But it really is a great worry. They
+must all begin digging, and keep on until they
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_281' name='page_281'></a>281</span>
+find something definite. It will be good for
+the shrubbery and the plantation, like the silly
+old man in the parable&mdash;no, I mean fable&mdash;who
+pretended he had hidden a treasure. Oh,
+Jim, don&#8217;t look so distressed. I ought not
+to pour out all these trivial things to you;
+but since I have known Michael is coming
+back, my mind seems to have become foolish
+and trivial again. Michael always has that
+effect upon me; because&mdash;though he himself
+is so great and clever&mdash;he really thinks trivial
+and unimportant things are a woman&#8217;s vocation
+in life. But oh, Jim&mdash;Jim Airth&mdash;with
+<i>you</i> I am always lifted straight to the big
+things; and our big thing to-day is this:&mdash;that
+you never killed Michael. Do you remember
+telling me how, as you lay in your tent recovering
+from the fever, if some one could have come
+in and told you Michael was alive and well,
+and that you had not killed him after all, you
+would have given your life for the relief of that
+moment? Well, <i>I</i> am that &#8216;some one,&#8217; and
+<i>this</i> is the &#8216;moment&#8217;; and when first I had the
+telegram I could think of nothing&mdash;absolutely
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_282' name='page_282'></a>282</span>
+nothing, Jim&mdash;but what it would be to
+you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What telegram?&#8221; gasped Jim Airth. &#8220;In
+heaven&#8217;s name, Myra, what do you mean?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Michael&#8217;s telegram. It lies on the mantelpiece.
+Read it, Jim.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Jim Airth turned, took up the telegram and
+drew it from the envelope with steady fingers.
+He still thought Myra was raving.</p>
+<p>He read it through, slowly. The wording
+was unmistakable; but he read it through
+again. As he did so he slightly turned, so
+that his back was toward the couch.</p>
+<p>The blow was so stupendous. He could
+only realise one thing, for the moment:&mdash;that
+the woman who watched him read it,
+must not as yet see his face.</p>
+<p>She spoke.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is it not almost impossible to believe,
+Jim? Ronald and Billy were lunching here,
+when it came. Billy seemed stunned; but Ronnie
+was delighted. He said he had always
+believed the first men to rush in had been
+captured, and that no actual proofs of
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_283' name='page_283'></a>283</span>
+Michael&#8217;s death had ever been found. They
+never explained to me before, that there
+had been no funeral. I suppose they thought
+it would seem more horrible. But I
+never take much account of bodies. If it
+weren&#8217;t for the burden of having a weird
+little urn about, and wondering what to
+do with it, I should approve of cremation.
+I sometimes felt I ought to make a pilgrimage
+to see the grave. I knew Michael would have
+wished it. He sets much store by graves&mdash;all
+the Inglebys lie in family vaults. That
+makes it worse about Peter. Ronnie went up
+to town at once to telegraph out the money.
+Billy went with him. Do you think five
+hundred is enough? Jim?&mdash;Jim! Are you
+not thankful? Do say something, Jim.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Jim Airth put back the telegram upon the
+mantelpiece. His big hand shook.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What is &#8216;Veritas&#8217;?&#8221; he asked, without
+looking round.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That is our private code, Jim; Michael&#8217;s
+and mine. My mother once wired to me in
+Michael&#8217;s name, and to him in mine&mdash;poor
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_284' name='page_284'></a>284</span>
+mamma often does eccentric things, to get
+her own way&mdash;and it made complications,
+Michael was very much annoyed. So we
+settled always to sign important telegrams
+&#8216;Veritas,&#8217; which means: &#8216;This is really from
+me.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then&mdash;your husband&mdash;is coming home
+to you?&#8221; said Jim Airth, slowly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, Jim,&#8221; the sweet voice faltered, for
+the first time, and grew tremulous. &#8220;Michael
+is coming home.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Then Jim Airth turned round, and faced her
+squarely. Myra had never seen anything so
+terrible as his face.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are mine,&#8221; he said; &#8220;not his.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Myra looked up at him, in dumb sorrowful
+appeal. She closed the ivory fan, clasping her
+hands upon it. The unquestioning finality of
+her patient silence, goaded Jim Airth to madness,
+and let loose the torrent of his fierce
+wild protest against this inevitable&mdash;this
+unrelenting, fate.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are mine,&#8221; he said, &#8220;not his. Your
+love is mine! Your body is mine! Your
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_285' name='page_285'></a>285</span>
+whole life is mine! I will not leave you to
+another man. Ah, I know I said we could
+not marry! I know I said I should go abroad.
+But you would have remained faithful to me;
+and I, to you. We might have been apart;
+we might have been lonely; we might have
+been at different ends of the earth; but&mdash;we
+should have been each other&#8217;s. I could have
+left you to loneliness; but, by God, I will not
+leave you to another!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Myra rose, moved forward a few steps and
+stood, leaning her arm upon the mantelpiece
+and looking down upon the bank of ferns and
+lilies.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hush, Jim,&#8221; she said, gently. &#8220;You forget
+to whom you are speaking.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am speaking,&#8221; cried Jim Airth, in furious
+desperation, &#8220;to the woman I have won for
+my own; and who is mine, and none other&#8217;s.
+If it had not been for my pride and my folly,
+we should have been married by now&mdash;<i>married</i>,
+Myra&mdash;and far away. I left you,
+I know; but&mdash;by heaven, I may as well tell
+you all now&mdash;it was pride&mdash;damnable false
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_286' name='page_286'></a>286</span>
+pride&mdash;that drove me away. I always meant
+to come back. I was waiting for you to send;
+but anyhow I should have come back. Would
+to God I had done as you implored me to do!
+By now we should have been together&mdash;out of
+reach of this cursed telegram,&mdash;and far away!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Myra slowly lifted her eyes and looked at
+him. He, blinded by pain and passion, failed
+to mark the look, or he might have taken
+warning. As it was, he rushed on, headlong.</p>
+<p>Myra, very white, with eyelids lowered,
+leaned against the mantelpiece; slowly furling
+and unfurling the ivory fan.</p>
+<p>&#8220;But, darling,&#8221; urged Jim Airth, &#8220;it is not
+yet too late. Oh, Myra, I have loved you
+so! Our love has been so wonderful. Have
+I not taught you what love is? The poor
+cold travesty you knew before&mdash;<i>that</i> was not
+love! Oh, Myra! you will come away with
+me, my own belovèd? You won&#8217;t put me
+through the hell of leaving you to another
+man? Myra, look at me! Say you will
+come.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Then Lady Ingleby slowly closed the fan,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_287' name='page_287'></a>287</span>
+grasping it firmly in her right hand. She
+threw back her head, and looked Jim Airth
+full in the eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;So <i>this</i> is your love,&#8221; she said. &#8220;This is
+what it means? Then I thank God I have
+hitherto only known the &#8216;cold travesty,&#8217;
+which at least has kept me pure, and held me
+high. What? Would you drag <i>me</i> down to
+the level of the woman you have scorned for a
+dozen years? And, dragging me down, would
+you also trail, with me, in the mire, the noble
+name of the man whom you have ventured
+to call friend? My husband may not have
+given me much of those things a woman
+desires. But he has trusted me with his
+name, and with his honour; he has left me,
+mistress of his home. When he comes back
+he will find me what he himself made me&mdash;mistress
+of Shenstone; he will find me where
+he left me, awaiting his return. You are no
+longer speaking to a widow, Lord Airth; nor
+to a woman left desolate. You are speaking
+to Lord Ingleby&#8217;s wife, and you may as well
+learn how Lord Ingleby&#8217;s wife guards Lord
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_288' name='page_288'></a>288</span>
+Ingleby&#8217;s name, and defends her own honour,
+and his.&#8221; She lifted her hand swiftly and
+struck him, with the ivory fan, twice across
+the cheek. &#8220;Traitor!&#8221; she said, &#8220;and coward!
+Leave this house, and never set foot in it again!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Jim Airth staggered back, his face livid&mdash;ashen,
+his hand involuntarily raised to ward
+off a third blow. Then the furious blood
+surged back. Two crimson streaks marked
+his cheek. He sprang forward; with a swift
+movement caught the fan from Lady Ingleby&#8217;s
+hands, and whirled it above his head. His
+eyes blazed into hers. For a moment she
+thought he was going to strike her. She
+neither flinched nor moved; only the faintest
+smile curved the corners of her mouth into
+a scornful question.</p>
+<p>Then Jim Airth gripped the fan in both
+hands; with a twist of his strong fingers snapped
+it in half, the halves into quarters, and again,
+with another wrench, crushed those into a
+hundred fragments&mdash;flung them at her feet;
+and, turning on his heel, left the room, and
+left the house.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XXIII_WHAT_BILLY_KNEW' id='XXIII_WHAT_BILLY_KNEW'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_289' name='page_289'></a>289</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXIII</h2>
+<h3>WHAT BILLY KNEW</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Ronald and Billy had spoken but little,
+as they sped to the railway station,
+earlier on that afternoon.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Rummy go,&#8221; volunteered Ronald, launching
+the tentative comment into the somewhat
+oppressive silence.</p>
+<p>Billy made no rejoinder.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why did you insist on coming with me?&#8221;
+asked Ronald.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m not coming with you,&#8221; replied Billy
+laconically.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Where then, Billy? Why so tragic? Are
+you going to leap from London Bridge? Don&#8217;t
+do it Billy-boy! You never had a chance.
+You were merely a nice kid. I&#8217;m the chap
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_290' name='page_290'></a>290</span>
+who might be tragic; and see&mdash;I&#8217;m going to
+the bank to despatch the wherewithal for
+bringing the old boy back. Take example by
+my fortitude, Billy.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Billy&#8217;s explosion, when it came, was so
+violent, so choice, and so unlike Billy, that
+Ronald relapsed into wondering silence.</p>
+<p>But once in the train, locked into an empty
+first-class smoker, Billy turned a white face to
+his friend.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ronnie,&#8221; he said, &#8220;I am going straight to
+Sir Deryck Brand. He is the only man I
+know, with a head on his shoulders.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thank you,&#8221; said Ronnie. &#8220;I suppose I
+dandle mine on my knee. But why this
+urgent need of a man with his head so uniquely
+placed?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Because,&#8221; said Billy, &#8220;that telegram is a
+lie.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nonsense, Billy! The wish is father to
+the thought! Oh, shame on you, Billy!
+Poor old Ingleby!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is a lie,&#8221; repeated Billy, doggedly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;But look,&#8221; objected Ronald, unfolding
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_291' name='page_291'></a>291</span>
+the telegram. &#8220;Here you are. &#8216;<i>Veritas.</i>&#8217;
+What do you make of that?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Veritas be hanged!&#8221; said Billy. &#8220;It&#8217;s
+a lie; and we&#8217;ve got to find out what damned
+rascal has sent it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But what possible reason have you to
+throw doubt on it?&#8221; inquired Ronald, gravely.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, confound you!&#8221; burst out Billy at
+last; &#8220;<i>I picked up the pieces!</i>&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>A very nervous white-faced young man sat
+in the green leather armchair in Dr. Brand&#8217;s
+consulting-room. He had shown the telegram,
+and jerked out a few incoherent sentences;
+after which Sir Deryck, by means of carefully
+chosen questions, had arrived at the main
+facts. He now sat at his table considering
+them.</p>
+<p>Then, turning in his revolving-chair, he
+looked steadily at Billy.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Cathcart,&#8221; he said, quietly, &#8220;what reason
+have you for being so certain of Lord Ingleby&#8217;s
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_292' name='page_292'></a>292</span>
+death, and that this telegram is therefore a
+forgery?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Billy moistened his lips. &#8220;Oh, confound
+it!&#8221; he said. &#8220;I picked up the pieces!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I see,&#8221; said Sir Deryck; and looked away.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have never told a soul,&#8221; said Billy. &#8220;It
+is not a pretty story. But I can give you
+details, if you like.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I think you had better give me details,&#8221;
+said Sir Deryck, gravely.</p>
+<p>So, with white lips, Billy gave them.</p>
+<p>The doctor rose, buttoning his coat. Then
+he poured out a glass of water and handed it
+to Billy.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Come,&#8221; he said. &#8220;Fortunately I know a
+very cute detective from our own London force
+who happens just now to be in Cairo. We must
+go to Scotland Yard for his address, and a code.
+In fact we had better work it through them.
+You have done the right thing, Billy; and done
+it promptly; but we have no time to lose.&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>Twenty-four hours later, the doctor called
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_293' name='page_293'></a>293</span>
+at Shenstone Park. He had telegraphed his
+train requesting to be met by the motor; and
+he now asked the chauffeur to wait at the
+door, in order to take him back to the station.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I could only come between trains,&#8221; he
+explained to Lady Ingleby, &#8220;so you must
+forgive the short notice, and the peremptory
+tone of my telegram. I could not risk missing
+you. I have something of great importance
+to communicate.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor waited a moment, hardly
+knowing how to proceed. He had seen
+Myra Ingleby under many varying conditions.
+He knew her well; and she was a woman so
+invariably true to herself, that he expected to
+be able to foresee exactly how she would act
+under any given combination of circumstances.</p>
+<p>In this undreamed of development of Lord
+Ingleby&#8217;s return, he anticipated finding her
+gently acquiescent; eagerly ready to resume
+again the duties of wifehood; with no thought
+of herself, but filled with anxious desire in all
+things to please the man who, with his whims
+and fancies, his foibles and ideas, had for nine
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_294' name='page_294'></a>294</span>
+months passed completely out of her life.
+Deryck Brand had expected to find Lady
+Ingleby in the mood of a typical April day,
+sunshine and showers rapidly alternating;
+whimsical smiles, succeeded by ready tears;
+then, with lashes still wet, gay laughter at
+some mistake of her own, or at incongruous
+behaviour on the part of her devoted
+but erratic household; speedily followed
+by pathetic anxiety over her own supposed
+short-comings in view of Lord Ingleby&#8217;s
+requirements on his return.</p>
+<p>Instead of this charming personification of
+unselfish, inconsequent, tender femininity,
+the doctor found himself confronted by a
+calm cold woman, with hard unseeing eyes; a
+woman in whom something had died; and
+dying, had slain all the best and truest in her
+womanhood.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Another man,&#8221; was the prompt conclusion
+at which the doctor arrived; and this conclusion,
+coupled with the exigency of his own
+pressing engagements, brought him without
+preamble, very promptly to the point.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_295' name='page_295'></a>295</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Lady Ingleby,&#8221; he said, &#8220;a cruel and
+heartless wrong has been done you by a
+despicable scoundrel, for whom no retribution
+would be too severe.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am perfectly aware of that,&#8221; replied
+Lady Ingleby, calmly; &#8220;but I fail to understand,
+Sir Deryck, why you should consider
+it necessary to come down here in order to
+discuss it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>This most unexpected reply for a moment
+completely nonplussed the doctor. But rapid
+mental adjustment formed an important part
+of his professional equipment.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I fear we are speaking at cross-purposes,&#8221;
+he said, gently. &#8220;Forgive me, if I appear to
+have trespassed upon a subject of which I
+have no knowledge whatever. I am referring
+to the telegram received by you yesterday,
+which led you to suppose the report of Lord
+Ingleby&#8217;s death was a mistake, and that he
+might shortly be returning home.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;My husband is alive,&#8221; said Lady Ingleby.
+&#8220;He has telegraphed to me from Cairo, and
+I expect him back very soon.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_296' name='page_296'></a>296</span></p>
+<p>For answer, Deryck Brand drew from his
+pocket-book two telegrams.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am bound to tell you at once, dear Lady
+Ingleby,&#8221; he said, &#8220;that you have been
+cruelly deceived. The message from Cairo
+was a heartless fraud, designed in order to
+obtain money. Billy Cathcart had reason to
+suspect its genuineness, and brought it to me.
+I cabled at once to Cairo, with this result.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He laid two telegrams on the table before
+her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The first is a copy of one we sent yesterday
+to a detective out there. The second I received
+three hours ago. No one&mdash;not even Billy&mdash;has
+heard of its arrival. I have brought it
+immediately to you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby slowly lifted the paper containing
+the first message. She read it in
+silence.</p>
+<div class='blockquot'>
+<p>Watch Cook&#8217;s bank and arrest man personating
+Lord Ingleby who will call for draft of
+money. Cable particulars promptly.</p>
+</div>
+<p>The doctor observed her closely as she laid
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_297' name='page_297'></a>297</span>
+down the first message without comment, and
+took up the second.</p>
+<div class='blockquot'>
+<p>Former valet of Lord Ingleby&#8217;s arrested.
+Confesses to despatch of fraudulent telegram.
+Cable instructions.</p>
+</div>
+<p>Lady Ingleby folded both papers and laid
+them on the table beside her. The calm
+impassivity of the white face had undergone
+no change.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It must have been Walker,&#8221; she said.
+&#8220;Michael always considered him a scamp and
+shifty; but I delighted in him, because he
+played the banjo quite excellently, and was so
+useful at parish entertainments. Michael
+took him abroad; but had to dismiss him on
+landing. He wrote and told me the fact, but
+gave no reasons. Poor Walker! I do not
+wish him punished, because I know Michael
+would think it was largely my own fault for
+putting banjo-playing before character. If
+Walker had written me a begging letter, I
+should most likely have sent him the money.
+I have a fatal habit of believing in people, and
+of wanting everybody to be happy.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_298' name='page_298'></a>298</span></p>
+<p>Then, as if these last words recalled a momentarily
+forgotten wound, the stony apathy
+returned to voice and face.</p>
+<p>&#8220;If Michael is not coming back,&#8221; said Lady
+Ingleby, &#8220;I am indeed alone.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor rose, and stood looking down
+upon her, perplexed and sorrowful.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is there not some one who should be told
+immediately of this change of affairs, Lady
+Ingleby?&#8221; he asked, gravely.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No one,&#8221; she replied, emphatically.
+&#8220;There is nobody whom it concerns intimately,
+excepting myself. And not many know of the
+arrival of yesterday&#8217;s news. I wrote to Jane,
+and I suppose the boys told it at Overdene.
+If by any chance it gets into the papers, we
+must send a contradiction; but no explanation,
+please. I dislike the publication of
+wrong doing. It only leads to imitation and
+repetition. Beside, even a poor worm of a
+valet should be shielded if possible from public
+execration. We could not explain the extenuating
+circumstances.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I do not suppose the news has become
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_299' name='page_299'></a>299</span>
+widely known,&#8221; said the doctor. &#8220;Your
+household heard it, of course?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&#8221; replied Lady Ingleby. &#8220;Ah, that
+reminds me, I must stop operations in the
+shrubbery and plantation. There is no object
+in little Peter having a grave, when his master
+has none.&#8221;</p>
+<p>This was absolutely unintelligible to the
+doctor; but at such times he never asked
+unnecessary questions, for his own enlightenment.</p>
+<p>&#8220;So after all, Sir Deryck,&#8221; added Lady
+Ingleby, &#8220;Peter was right.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&#8221; said the doctor, &#8220;little Peter was
+not mistaken.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Had I remembered him, I might have
+doubted the telegram,&#8221; remarked Lady
+Ingleby. &#8220;What can have aroused Billy&#8217;s
+suspicions?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Like Peter,&#8221; said the doctor, &#8220;Billy had,
+from the first, felt very sure. Do not mention
+to him that I told you the doubts originated
+with him. He is a sensitive lad, and the whole
+thing has greatly distressed him.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_300' name='page_300'></a>300</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Dear Billy,&#8221; said Lady Ingleby.</p>
+<p>The doctor glanced at the clock, and
+buttoned his coat. He had one minute to
+spare.</p>
+<p>&#8220;My friend,&#8221; he said, &#8220;a second time I
+have come as the bearer of evil tidings.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not evil,&#8221; replied Myra, in a tone of hopeless
+sadness. &#8220;This is not a world to which
+we could possibly desire the return of one we
+love.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;There is nothing wrong with the world,&#8221;
+said the doctor. &#8220;Our individual heaven or
+hell is brought about by our own actions.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Or by the actions of others,&#8221; amended
+Lady Ingleby, bitterly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Or by the actions of others,&#8221; agreed the
+doctor. &#8220;But, even then, we cannot be
+completely happy, unless we are true to our
+best selves; nor wholly miserable, unless to
+our own ideals we become false. I fear I
+must be off; but I do not like leaving you
+thus alone.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby glanced at the clock, rose, and
+gave him her hand.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_301' name='page_301'></a>301</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;You have been more than kind, Sir
+Deryck, in coming to me yourself. I shall
+never forget it. And I am expecting Jane
+Champion&mdash;Dalmain, I mean; why do one&#8217;s
+friends get married?&mdash;any minute. She is
+coming direct from town; the phaeton has
+gone to the station to meet her.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good,&#8221; said the doctor, and clasped her
+hand with the strong silent sympathy of a
+man who, desiring to help, yet realises himself
+in the presence of a grief he is powerless
+either to understand or to assuage.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good&mdash;very good,&#8221; he said, as he stepped
+into the motor, remarking to the chauffeur:
+&#8220;We have nine minutes; and if we miss the
+train, I must ask you to run me up to town.&#8221;</p>
+<p>And he said it a third time, even more
+emphatically, when he had recovered from his
+surprise at that which he saw as the motor
+flew down the avenue. For, after passing
+Lady Ingleby&#8217;s phaeton returning from the
+station empty excepting for a travelling coat
+and alligator bag left upon the seat, he saw
+the Honourable Mrs. Dalmain walking slowly
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_302' name='page_302'></a>302</span>
+beneath the trees, in earnest conversation with
+a very tall man, who carried his hat, letting
+the breeze blow through his thick rumpled
+hair. Both were too preoccupied to notice
+the motor, but as the man turned his haggard
+face toward his companion, the doctor saw in
+it the same stony look of hopeless despair,
+which had grieved and baffled him in Lady
+Ingleby&#8217;s. The two were slowly wending
+their way toward the house, by a path leading
+down to the terrace.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Evidently&mdash;the man,&#8221; thought the doctor.
+&#8220;Well, I am glad Jane has him in tow. Poor
+souls! Providence has placed them in wise
+hands. If faithful counsel and honest plain-speaking
+can avail them anything, they will undoubtedly
+receive both, from our good Jane.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Providence also arranged that the London
+express was one minute late, and the doctor
+caught it. Whereat the chauffeur rejoiced;
+for he was &#8220;walking out&#8221; with Her ladyship&#8217;s
+maid, whose evening off it chanced to be.
+The all-important events of life are apt to
+hang upon the happenings of one minute.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XXIV_MRS_DALMAIN_REVIEWS_THE_SITUATION' id='XXIV_MRS_DALMAIN_REVIEWS_THE_SITUATION'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_303' name='page_303'></a>303</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXIV</h2>
+<h3>MRS. DALMAIN REVIEWS THE SITUATION</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>&#8220;So you see, Jane,&#8221; concluded Lady Ingleby,
+pathetically, &#8220;as Michael is not
+coming back, I am indeed alone.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Loving Jim Airth as you do&mdash;&#8221; said Jane
+Dalmain.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Did,&#8221; interposed Lady Ingleby.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Did, and do,&#8221; said Jane Dalmain, &#8220;you
+would have been worse than alone if Michael
+had, after all, come back. Oh, Myra! I
+cannot imagine anything more unendurable,
+than to love one man, and be obliged to live
+with another.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I should not have allowed myself to go on
+loving Jim,&#8221; said Lady Ingleby.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Rubbish!&#8221; pronounced Mrs. Dalmain,
+with forceful decision. &#8220;My dear Myra, that
+kind of remark paves the way for the devil, and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_304' name='page_304'></a>304</span>
+is one of his favourite devices. More good
+women have been tripped by over-confidence
+in their ability to curb and to control their
+own affections, than by direct temptation to
+love where love is not lawful. Men are different;
+their temptations are not so subtle. They
+know exactly to what it will lead, if they dally
+with sentiment. Therefore, if they mean
+to do the right thing in the end, they keep
+clear of the danger at the beginning. We
+cannot possibly forbid ourselves to go on
+loving, where love has once been allowed to
+reign supreme. I know you would not, in the
+first instance, have let yourself care for Jim
+Airth, had you not been free. But, once loving
+him, if so appalling a situation could have
+arisen as the unexpected return of your
+husband, your only safe and honourable
+course would have been to frankly tell Lord
+Ingleby: &#8216;I grew to love Jim Airth while I
+believed you dead. I shall always love Jim
+Airth; but, I want before all else to be a good
+woman and a faithful wife. Trust me to be
+faithful; help me to be good.&#8217; Any man,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_305' name='page_305'></a>305</span>
+worth his salt, would respond to such an
+appeal.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And shoot himself?&#8221; suggested Lady
+Ingleby.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I said &#8216;man,&#8217; not &#8216;coward,&#8217;&#8221; responded
+Mrs. Dalmain, with fine scorn.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Jane, you are so strong-minded,&#8221; murmured
+Lady Ingleby. &#8220;It goes with your
+linen collars, your tailor-made coats, and your
+big boots. I cannot picture myself in a
+linen collar, nor can I conceive of myself as
+standing before Michael and informing him
+that I loved Jim!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Jane Dalmain laughed good-humouredly,
+plunged her large hands into the pockets of her
+tweed coat, stretched out her serviceable brown
+boots and looked at them.</p>
+<p>&#8220;If by &#8216;strong-minded&#8217; you mean a wholesome
+dislike to the involving of a straightforward
+situation in a tangle of disingenuous
+sophistry, I plead guilty,&#8221; she said.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, don&#8217;t quote Sir Deryck,&#8221; retorted
+Lady Ingleby, crossly. &#8220;You ought to have
+married him! I never could understand such
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_306' name='page_306'></a>306</span>
+an artist, such a poet, such an eclectic idealist
+as Garth Dalmain, falling in love with <i>you</i>,
+Jane!&#8221;</p>
+<p>A sudden light of womanly tenderness
+illumined Jane&#8217;s plain face. &#8220;The wife&#8221;
+looked out from it, in simple unconscious
+radiance.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nor could I,&#8221; she answered softly. &#8220;It
+took me three years to realise it as an indubitable
+fact.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I suppose you are very happy,&#8221; remarked
+Myra.</p>
+<p>Jane was silent. There were shrines in that
+strong nature too wholly sacred to be easily
+unveiled.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I remember how I hated the idea, after
+the accident,&#8221; said Myra, &#8220;of your tying
+yourself to blindness.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, hush,&#8221; said Jane Dalmain, quickly.
+&#8220;You tread on sacred ground, and you forget
+to remove your shoes. From the first, the
+sweetest thing between my husband and
+myself has been that, together, we learned to
+kiss that cross.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_307' name='page_307'></a>307</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Dear old thing!&#8221; said Lady Ingleby,
+affectionately; &#8220;you deserved to be happy.
+All the same I never can understand why
+you did not marry Deryck Brand.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Jane smiled. She could not bring herself
+to discuss her husband, but she was very
+willing at this critical juncture to divert Lady
+Ingleby from her own troubles by entering
+into particulars concerning herself and the
+doctor.</p>
+<p>&#8220;My dear,&#8221; she said, &#8220;Deryck and I were
+far too much alike ever to have dovetailed
+into marriage. All our points would have
+met, and our differences gaped wide. The
+qualities which go to the making of a perfect
+friendship by no means always ensure a
+perfect marriage. There was a time when I
+should have married Deryck had he asked me
+to do so, simply because I implicitly trusted
+his judgment in all things, and it would never
+have occurred to me to refuse him anything
+he asked. But it would not have resulted in
+our mutual happiness. Also, at that time, I
+had no idea what love really meant. I no
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_308' name='page_308'></a>308</span>
+more understood love until&mdash;until Garth
+taught me, than you understood it before you
+met Jim Airth.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I wish you would not keep on alluding to
+Jim Airth,&#8221; said Myra, wearily. &#8220;I never
+wish to hear his name again. And I cannot
+allow you to suppose that I should ever have
+adopted your strong-minded suggestion, and
+admitted to Michael that I loved Jim. I
+should have done nothing of the kind. I
+should have devoted myself to pleasing
+Michael in all things, and <i>made myself</i>&mdash;yes,
+Jane; you need not look amused and
+incredulous; though I <i>don&#8217;t</i> wear collars and
+shooting-boots, I <i>can</i> make myself do things&mdash;I
+should have made myself forget that there
+was such a person in this world as the Earl
+of Airth and Monteith.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh spare him that!&#8221; laughed Mrs. Dalmain.
+&#8220;Don&#8217;t call the poor man by his titles.
+If he must be hanged, at least let him hang as
+plain Jim Airth. If one had to be wicked, it
+would be so infinitely worse to be a wicked
+earl, than wicked in any other walk of life.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_309' name='page_309'></a>309</span>
+It savours so painfully of the &#8216;penny-dreadful&#8217;,
+or the cheap novelette. Also, my dear, there
+is nothing to be gained by discussing a
+hypothetical situation, with which you do
+not after all find yourself confronted. Mercifully,
+Lord Ingleby is not coming back.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mercifully!&#8221; exclaimed Lady Ingleby.
+&#8220;Really, Jane, you are crude beyond words,
+and most unsympathetic. You should have
+heard how tactfully the doctor broke it to me,
+and how kindly he alluded to my loss.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;My dear Myra,&#8221; said Mrs. Dalmain, &#8220;I
+don&#8217;t waste sympathy on false sentiment.
+And if Deryck had known you were already
+engaged to another man, instead of devoting
+to you four hours of his valuable time, he
+could have sent a sixpenny wire: &#8216;Telegram a
+forgery. Accept heartfelt congratulations!&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Jane, you are brutal. And seeing that I
+have just told you the whole story of these
+last weeks, with the cruel heart-breaking
+finale of yesterday, I fail to understand how
+you can speak of me as engaged to another
+man.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_310' name='page_310'></a>310</span></p>
+<p>Instantly Jane Dalmain&#8217;s whole bearing altered.
+She ceased looking quizzically amused,
+and left off swinging her brown boot. She
+sat up, uncrossed her knees, and leaning her
+elbows upon them, held out her large capable
+hands to Lady Ingleby. Her noble face,
+grandly strong and tender, in its undeniable
+plainness, was full of womanly understanding
+and sympathy.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, my dear,&#8221; she said, &#8220;now we must
+come to the crux of the whole matter. I have
+merely been playing around the fringe of the
+subject, in order to give you time to recover
+from the inevitable strain of the long and
+painful recital you have felt it necessary to
+make, in order that I might fully understand
+your position in all its bearings. The real
+question is this: Are you going to forgive Jim
+Airth?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I must never forgive him,&#8221; said Lady
+Ingleby, with finality, &#8220;because, if I forgave
+him, I could not let him go.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why let him go, when his going leaves your
+whole life desolate?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_311' name='page_311'></a>311</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Because,&#8221; said Myra, &#8220;I feel I could not
+trust him; and I dare not marry a man whom
+I love as I love Jim Airth, unless I can trust
+him as implicitly as I trust my God. If I
+loved him less, I would take the risk. But
+I feel, for him, something which I can neither
+understand nor define; only I know that in
+time it would make him so completely master
+of me that, unless I could trust him absolutely&mdash;I
+should be afraid.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is a man never to be trusted again,&#8221;
+asked Jane, &#8220;because, under sudden fierce
+temptation, he has failed you once?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is not the failing once,&#8221; said Myra. &#8220;It
+is the light thrown upon the whole quality of
+his love&mdash;of that <i>kind</i> of love. The passion of
+it makes it selfish&mdash;selfish to the degree of
+being utterly regardless of right and wrong,
+and careless of the welfare of its unfortunate
+object. My fair name would have been
+smirched; my honour dragged in the mire;
+my present, blighted; my future, ruined; but
+what did <i>he</i> care? It was all swept aside in
+the one sentence: &#8216;You are mine, not his.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_312' name='page_312'></a>312</span>
+You must come away with me.&#8217; I cannot
+trust myself to a love which has no standard
+of right and wrong. We look at it from
+different points of view. <i>You</i> see only the
+man and his temptation. <i>I</i> knew the priceless
+treasure of the love; therefore the sin against
+that love seems to me unforgivable.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mrs. Dalmain looked earnestly at her friend.
+Her steadfast eyes were deeply troubled.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Myra,&#8221; she said, &#8220;you are absolutely
+right in your definitions, and correct in your
+conclusions. But your mistake is this. You
+make no allowance for the sudden, desperate,
+overwhelming nature of the temptation before
+which Jim Airth fell. Remember all that led
+up to it. Think of it, Myra! He stood so
+alone in the world; no mother, no wife, no
+woman&#8217;s tenderness. And those ten hard
+years of worse than loneliness, when he fought
+the horrors of disillusion, the shame of betrayal,
+the bitterness of desertion; the humiliation
+of the stain upon his noble name.
+Against all this, during ten long years, he
+struggled; fought a manful fight, and overcame.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_313' name='page_313'></a>313</span>
+Then&mdash;strong, hardened, lonely; a
+man grown to man&#8217;s full heritage of self-contained
+independence&mdash;he met you, Myra.
+His ideals returned, purified and strengthened
+by their passage through the fire. Love came,
+now, in such gigantic force, that the pigmy
+passion of early youth was dwarfed and
+superseded. It seemed a new and untasted
+experience such as he had not dreamed life
+could contain. Three weeks of it, he had;
+growing in certainty, increasing in richness,
+every day; yet tempered by the patient waiting
+your pleasure, for eagerly expected fulfilment.
+Then the blow&mdash;so terrible to his sensibilities
+and to his manly pride; the horrible knowledge
+that his own hand had brought loss and sorrow
+to you, whom he would have shielded from
+the faintest shadow of pain. Then his mistake
+in allowing false pride to come between you.
+Three weeks of growing hunger and regret,
+followed by your summons, which seemed
+to promise happiness after all; for, remember
+while <i>you</i> had been bringing yourself to acquiesce
+in his decision as absolutely final, so
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_314' name='page_314'></a>314</span>
+that the news of Lord Ingleby&#8217;s return meant
+no loss to you and to him, merely the relief
+of his exculpation, <i>he</i> had been coming round
+to a more reasonable point of view, and
+realising that, after all, he had not lost you.
+You sent for him, and he came&mdash;once more
+aglow with love and certainty&mdash;only to hear
+that he had not only lost you himself, but
+must leave you to another man. Oh Myra!
+Can you not make allowance for a moment of
+fierce madness? Can you not see that the
+very strength of the man momentarily turned
+in the wrong direction, brought about his
+downfall? You tell me you called him
+coward and traitor? You might as well have
+struck him! Such words from your lips must
+have been worse than blows. I admit he
+deserved them; yet Saint Peter was thrice a
+coward and a traitor, but his Lord, making
+allowance for a sudden yielding to temptation,
+did not doubt the loyalty of his love, but gave
+him a chance of threefold public confession,
+and forgave him. If Divine Love could do
+this&mdash;oh, Myra, can <i>you</i> let your lover go out
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_315' name='page_315'></a>315</span>
+into the world again, alone, without one word
+of forgiveness?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;How do I know he wants my forgiveness,
+Jane? He left me in a towering fury. And
+how could my forgiveness reach him, even
+supposing he desired it, or I could give it?
+Where is he now?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He left you in despair,&#8221; said Mrs. Dalmain,
+&#8220;and&mdash;he is in the library.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby rose to her feet.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Jane! Jim Airth in this house! Who
+admitted him?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I did,&#8221; replied Mrs. Dalmain, coolly. &#8220;I
+smuggled him in. Not a soul saw us enter.
+That was why I sent the carriage on ahead,
+when we reached the park gates. We walked
+up the avenue, turned down on to the terrace
+and slipped in by the lower door. He has
+been sitting in the library ever since. If you
+decide not to see him, I can go down and tell
+him so; he can go out as he came in, and none
+of your household will know he has been here.
+Dear Myra, don&#8217;t look so distraught. Do
+sit down again, and let us finish our talk....
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_316' name='page_316'></a>316</span>
+That is right. You must not be hurried. A
+decision which affects one&#8217;s whole life, cannot
+be made in a minute, nor even in an hour.
+Lord Airth does not wish to force an interview,
+nor do I wish to persuade you to grant him one.
+He will not be surprised if I bring him word
+that you would rather not see him.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Rather not?&#8221; cried Myra, with clasped
+hands. &#8220;Oh Jane, if you could know what
+the mere thought of seeing him means to me,
+you would not say &#8216;rather not,&#8217; but &#8216;dare not.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Let me tell you how we met,&#8221; said Mrs.
+Dalmain, ignoring the last remark. &#8220;I reached
+Charing Cross in good time; stopped at the
+book stall for a supply of papers; secured an
+empty compartment, and settled down to
+a quiet hour. Jim Airth dashed into the
+station with barely one minute in which to
+take his ticket and reach the train. He tore
+up the platform, as the train began to move;
+had not time to reach a smoker; wrenched
+open the door of my compartment; jumped in
+headlong, and sat down upon my papers;
+turned to apologise, and found himself shut
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_317' name='page_317'></a>317</span>
+in alone for an hour with the friend to whom
+you had written weekly letters from Cornwall,
+and of whom you had apparently told him
+rather nice things&mdash;or, at all events things
+which led him to consider me trustworthy.
+He recognised me by a recent photograph
+which you had shown him.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I remember,&#8221; said Myra. &#8220;I kept it in
+my writing-case. He took it up and looked
+at it several times. I often spoke to him of
+you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He introduced himself with straightforward
+simplicity,&#8221; continued Mrs. Dalmain,
+&#8220;and then&mdash;we neither of us knew quite how
+it happened&mdash;in a few minutes we were talking
+without reserve. I believe he felt frankness
+with me on his part might enable me,
+in the future, to be a comfort to you&mdash;you are
+his one thought; also, that if I interceded, you
+would perhaps grant him that which he came
+to seek&mdash;the opportunity to ask your forgiveness.
+Of course we neither of us had the
+slightest idea of the possibility that yesterday&#8217;s
+telegram could be incorrect. He sails for
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_318' name='page_318'></a>318</span>
+America almost immediately, but could not
+bring himself to leave England without
+having expressed to you his contrition, and
+obtained your pardon. He would have
+written, but did not feel he ought, for your
+sake, to run the risk of putting explanations
+on to paper. Also I honestly believe it is
+breaking his heart, poor fellow, to feel that
+you and he parted forever, in anger. His
+love for you is a very great love, Myra.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Jane,&#8221; cried Lady Ingleby, &#8220;I cannot
+let him go! And yet&mdash;I <i>cannot</i> marry him.
+I love him with every fibre of my whole being,
+and yet I cannot trust him. Oh, Jane, what
+shall I do?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You must give him a chance,&#8221; said Mrs.
+Dalmain, &#8220;to retrieve his mistake, and to
+prove himself the man we know him to be.
+Say to him, without explanation, what you
+have just said to me: that you <i>cannot let him
+go</i>; and see how he takes it. Listen, Myra.
+The unforeseen developments of the last few
+hours have put it into your power to give
+Jim Airth his chance. You must not rob
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_319' name='page_319'></a>319</span>
+him of it. Years ago, when Garth and I were
+in an apparently hopeless tangle of irretrievable
+mistake, Deryck found us a way out.
+He said if Garth could go <i>behind his blindness</i>
+and express an opinion which he only could
+have given while he had his sight, the question
+might be solved. I need not trouble you with
+details, but that was exactly what happened,
+and our great happiness resulted. Now, in
+your case, Jim Airth must be given the
+chance to go <i>behind his madness</i>, regain his
+own self-respect, and prove himself worthy
+of your trust. Have you told any one of the
+second telegram from Cairo?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I saw nobody,&#8221; said Lady Ingleby, &#8220;from
+the moment Sir Deryck left me, until you
+walked in.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Very well. Then you, and Deryck, and
+I, are the only people in England who know
+of it. Jim Airth will have no idea of any
+change of conditions since yesterday. Do
+you see what that means, Myra?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby&#8217;s pale face flushed. &#8220;Oh
+Jane, I dare not! If he failed again&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_320' name='page_320'></a>320</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;He will not fail,&#8221; replied Mrs. Dalmain,
+with decision; &#8220;but should he do so, he will
+have proved himself, as you say, unworthy
+of your trust. Then&mdash;you can forgive him,
+and let him go.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I cannot let him go!&#8221; cried Myra. &#8220;And
+yet I cannot marry him, unless he is all I have
+believed him to be.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, my dear, my dear!&#8221; said Mrs. Dalmain,
+tenderly. &#8220;You need to learn a lesson
+about married life. True happiness does not
+come from marrying an idol throned on a
+pedestal. Before Galatea could wed Pygmalion,
+she had to change from marble into
+glowing flesh and blood, and step down from
+off her pedestal. Love should not make us
+blind to one another&#8217;s faults. It should only
+make us infinitely tender, and completely understanding.
+Let me tell you a shrewd remark
+of Aunt Georgina&#8217;s on that subject. Speaking
+to a young married woman who considered herself
+wronged and disillusioned because, the
+honeymoon over, she discovered her husband
+not to be in all things absolutely perfect: &#8216;Ah,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_321' name='page_321'></a>321</span>
+my good girl,&#8217; said Aunt &#8217;Gina, rapping the
+floor with her ebony cane; &#8216;you made a foolish
+mistake if you imagined you were marrying an
+angel, when we have it, on the very highest authority,
+that the angels neither marry nor are
+given in marriage. Men and women, who are
+human enough to marry, are human enough to
+be full of faults; and the best thing marriage
+provides is that each gets somebody who will
+love, forgive, and understand. If you had
+waited for perfection, you would have reached
+heaven a spinster, which would have been, to
+say the least of it, dull&mdash;when you had had the
+chance of matrimony on earth! Go and make
+it up with that nice boy of yours, or I shall find
+him some pretty&mdash;&#8217; But the little bride, her
+anger dissolving in laughter and tears, had
+fled across the lawn in pursuit of a tall figure
+in tweeds, stalking in solitary dudgeon towards
+the river. They disappeared into the
+boathouse, and soon after we saw them in a
+tiny skiff for two, and heard their happy
+laughter. &#8216;Silly babies!&#8217; said Aunt &#8217;Gina,
+crossly, &#8216;they&#8217;ll do it once too often, when
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_322' name='page_322'></a>322</span>
+I&#8217;m not there to spank them; and then
+there&#8217;ll be a shipwreck! Oh, why did Adam
+marry, and spoil that peaceful garden?&#8217;
+Whereat Tommy, the old scarlet macaw,
+swung head downwards from his golden
+perch, with such shrieks of delighted laughter,
+mingled with appropriate profanity, that
+Aunt &#8217;Gina&#8217;s good-humour was instantly
+restored. &#8216;Give him a strawberry, somebody!&#8217;
+she said; and spoke no more on things matrimonial.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Myra laughed. &#8220;The duchess&#8217;s views are
+always refreshing. I wonder whether Michael
+and I made the mistake of not realising each
+other to be human; of not admitting there
+was anything to forgive, and therefore never
+forgiving?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, don&#8217;t make it with Jim Airth,&#8221;
+advised Mrs. Dalmain, &#8220;for he is the most
+human man I ever met; also the strongest,
+and one of the most lovable. Myra, there is
+nothing to be gained by waiting. Let me
+send him to you now; and, remember, all he
+asks or expects is one word of forgiveness.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_323' name='page_323'></a>323</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Jane!&#8221; cried Lady Ingleby, with
+clasped hands. &#8220;Do wait a little while.
+Give me time to think; time to consider; time
+to decide.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nonsense, my dear,&#8221; said Mrs. Dalmain,
+&#8220;When but one right course lies before you,
+there can be no possible need for hesitation or
+consideration. You are merely nervously
+postponing the inevitable. You remind me
+of scenes we used to have in the out-patient
+department of a hospital in the East End of
+London, to which I once went for training.
+When patients came to the surgery for teeth
+extraction, and the pretty sympathetic little
+nurse in charge had got them safely fixed into
+the chair; as one of the doctors, prompt
+and alert, came forward with unmistakably
+business-like forceps ready, the terrified patient
+would exclaim: &#8216;Oh, let the nurse do
+it! Let the nurse do it!&#8217; the idea evidently
+being that three or four diffident pulls by the
+nurse, were less alarming than the sharp
+certainty of <i>one</i> from the doctor. Now, my
+dear Myra, you have to face your ordeal.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_324' name='page_324'></a>324</span>
+If it is to be successful there must be no
+uncertainty.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Jane, I wish you were not such a
+decided person. I am sure when <i>you</i> were the
+nurse, the poor things preferred the doctors.
+I am terrified; yet I know you are right. And,
+oh, you dear, don&#8217;t leave me! See me
+through.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am never away from Garth for a night,
+as you know,&#8221; said Mrs. Dalmain. &#8220;But he
+and little Geoff went down to Overdene this
+morning, with Simpson and nurse; so, if your
+man can motor me over during the evening, I
+will stay as long as you need me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, thanks,&#8221; said Lady Ingleby. &#8220;And
+now, Jane, you have done all you can for me;
+and God knows how much that means. I
+want to be quite alone for an hour. I feel
+I must face it out, and decide what I really
+intend doing. I owe it to Jim, I owe it to
+myself, to be quite sure what I mean to say,
+before I see him. Order tea in the library.
+Tell him I will see him; and, at the end of the
+hour, send him here. But, Jane&mdash;not a hint
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_325' name='page_325'></a>325</span>
+of anything which has passed between us. I
+may rely on you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;My dear,&#8221; said Mrs. Dalmain, gently,
+&#8220;I play the game!&#8221;</p>
+<p>She rose and stood on the hearthrug, looking
+intently at her husband&#8217;s painting of Lord
+Ingleby.</p>
+<p>&#8220;And, Myra,&#8221; she said at last, &#8220;I do entreat
+you to remember, you are dealing with an
+unknown quantity. You have never before
+known intimately a man of Jim Airth&#8217;s
+temperament. His love for you, and yours
+for him, hold elements as yet not fully understood
+by you. Remember this, in drawing
+your conclusions. I had almost said, Let
+instinct guide, rather than reason.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I understand your meaning,&#8221; said Lady
+Ingleby. &#8220;But I dare not depend upon
+either instinct or reason. I have not been a
+religious woman, Jane, as of course you know;
+but&mdash;I have been learning lately; and, as I
+learn, I try to practise. I feel myself to be in
+so dark and difficult a place, that I am
+trying to say, &#8216;Even <i>there</i> shall Thy hand
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_326' name='page_326'></a>326</span>
+lead me, and Thy right Hand shall hold
+me.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, you are right,&#8221; said Jane&#8217;s deep earnest
+voice; &#8220;that is the best of all. God&#8217;s hand
+alone leads surely, out of darkness into light.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She put a kind arm firmly around her friend,
+for a moment.</p>
+<p>Then:&mdash;&#8220;I will send him to you in an hour,&#8221;
+she said, and left the room.</p>
+<p>Lady Ingleby was alone.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XXV_THE_TEST' id='XXV_THE_TEST'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_327' name='page_327'></a>327</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXV</h2>
+<h3>THE TEST</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>The door of Myra&#8217;s sitting-room opened
+quietly, and Jim Airth came in.</p>
+<p>She awaited him upon the couch, sitting
+very still, her hands folded in her lap.</p>
+<p>The room seemed full of flowers, and of soft
+sunset light.</p>
+<p>He closed the door, and came and stood
+before her.</p>
+<p>For a few moments they looked steadily
+into one another&#8217;s faces.</p>
+<p>Then Jim Airth spoke, very low.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is so good of you to see me,&#8221; he said.
+&#8220;It is almost more than I had ventured to
+hope. I am leaving England in a few hours.
+It would have been hard to go&mdash;without this.
+Now it will be easy.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_328' name='page_328'></a>328</span></p>
+<p>She lifted her eyes to his, and waited in
+silence.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Myra,&#8221; he said, &#8220;can you forgive me?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I do not know, Jim,&#8221; she answered, gently.
+&#8220;I want to be quite honest with you, and with
+myself. If I had cared less, I could have
+forgiven more easily.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I know,&#8221; he said. &#8220;Oh, Myra, I know.
+And I would not have you forgive lightly, so
+great a sin against our love. But, dear&mdash;if,
+before I go, you could say, &#8216;I understand,&#8217;
+it would mean almost more to me, than if you
+said, &#8216;I forgive.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Jim,&#8221; said Myra, gently, a tremor of
+tenderness in her sweet voice, &#8220;I understand.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He came quite near, and took her hands in
+his, holding them for a moment, with tender
+reverence.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thank you, dear,&#8221; he said. &#8220;You are
+very good.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He loosed her hands, and again she folded
+them in her lap. He walked to the mantelpiece
+and stood looking down upon the ferns
+and lilies.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_329' name='page_329'></a>329</span></p>
+<p>She marked the stoop of his broad shoulders;
+the way in which he seemed to find it difficult
+to hold up his head. Where was the proud gay
+carriage of the man who swung along the
+Cornish cliffs, whistling like a blackbird?</p>
+<p>&#8220;Jim,&#8221; she said, &#8220;understanding fully, of
+course I forgive fully, if it is possible that
+between you and me, forgiveness should pass.
+I have been thinking it over, since I knew you
+were in the house, and wondering why I feel
+it so impossible to say, &#8216;I forgive you.&#8217; And,
+Jim&mdash;I think it is because you and I are so
+<i>one</i> that there is no room for such a thing as
+forgiveness to pass from me to you, or from
+you to me. Complete comprehension and
+unfailing love, take the place of what would
+be forgiveness between those who were less
+to each other.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He lifted his eyes, for a moment, full of a
+dumb anguish, which wrung her heart.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Myra, I must go,&#8221; he said, brokenly.
+&#8220;There was so much I had to tell you; so much
+to explain. But all need of this seems swept
+away by your divine tenderness and comprehension.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_330' name='page_330'></a>330</span>
+All my life through I shall carry
+with me, deep hidden in my heart, these words
+of yours. Oh, my dear&mdash;my dear! Don&#8217;t
+speak again! Let them be the last. Only&mdash;may
+I say it?&mdash;never let thoughts of me,
+sadden your fair life. I am going to America&mdash;a
+grand place for fresh beginnings; a land
+where one can work, and truly live; a land
+where earnest endeavour meets with fullest
+success, and where a man&#8217;s energy may have
+full scope. I want you to think of me, Myra,
+as living, and working, and striving; not going
+under. But, if ever I feel like going under,
+I shall hear your dear voice singing at my
+shoulder, in the little Cornish church, on the
+quiet Sabbath evening, in the sunset: &#8216;Eternal
+Father, strong to save,&#8217; ... And&mdash;when
+I think of you, my dear&mdash;my dear; I shall
+know your life is being good and beautiful
+every hour, and that you are happy with&mdash;&#8221; he
+lifted his eyes to Lord Ingleby&#8217;s portrait;
+they dwelt for a moment on the kind quiet
+face&mdash;&#8220;with one of the best of men,&#8221; said
+Jim Airth, bravely
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_331' name='page_331'></a>331</span></p>
+<p>He took a last look at her face. Silent tears
+stole slowly down it, and fell upon her folded
+hands.</p>
+<p>A spasm of anguish shot across Jim Airth&#8217;s
+set features.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, I must go,&#8221; he said, suddenly. &#8220;God
+keep you, always.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He turned so quickly, that his hand was
+actually upon the handle of the door, before
+Myra reached him, though she sprang up,
+and flew across the room.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Jim,&#8221; she said, breathlessly. &#8220;Stop, Jim!
+Ah, stop! Listen! Wait!&mdash;Jim, I have always
+known&mdash;I told Jane so&mdash;that if I forgave
+you, I could not let you go.&#8221; She
+flung her arms around his neck, as he stood
+gazing at her in dumb bewilderment. &#8220;Jim,
+my belovèd! I cannot let you go; or, if you
+go, you must take me with you. I cannot live
+without you, Jim Airth!&#8221;</p>
+<p>For the space of a dozen heart-beats he
+stood silent, while she hung around him; her
+head upon his breast, her clinging arms about
+his neck.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_332' name='page_332'></a>332</span></p>
+<p>Then a cry so terrible burst from him, that
+Myra&#8217;s heart stood still.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, my God,&#8221; he cried, &#8220;this is the worst
+of all! Have I, in falling, dragged <i>her</i> down?
+Now, indeed am I broken&mdash;broken. What
+was the loss of my own pride, my own honour,
+my own self-esteem, to this? Have I soiled
+her fair whiteness; weakened the noble
+strength of her sweet purity? Oh, not this&mdash;my
+God, not this!&#8221;</p>
+<p>He lifted his hands to his neck, took hers
+by the wrists, and forcibly drew them down,
+stepping back a pace, so that she must lift
+her head.</p>
+<p>Then, holding her hands against his breast:
+&#8220;Lady Ingleby,&#8221; he said, &#8220;lift your eyes,
+and look into my face.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Slowly&mdash;slowly&mdash;Myra lifted her grey eyes.
+The fire of his held her; she felt the strength
+of him mastering her, as it had often done
+before. She could scarcely see the anguish in
+his face, so vivid was the blaze of his blue eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Lady Ingleby,&#8221; he said, and the grip of
+his hands on hers, tightened. &#8220;Lady Ingleby&mdash;we
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_333' name='page_333'></a>333</span>
+stood like this together, you and I, on a
+fast narrowing strip of sand. The cruel sea
+swept up, relentless. A high cliff rose in
+front&mdash;our only refuge. I held you thus, and
+said: &#8216;We must climb&mdash;or drown.&#8217; Do you
+remember?&mdash;I say it now, again. The only
+possible right thing to do is steep and difficult;
+but we must climb. We must mount above
+our lower selves; away from this narrowing
+strip of dangerous sand; away from this cruel
+sea of fierce temptation; up to the breezy
+cliff-top, up to the blue above, into the open
+of honour and right and perfect purity. You
+stood there, until now; you stood there&mdash;brave
+and beautiful. I dragged you down&mdash;God
+forgive me, I brought you into danger&mdash;Hush!
+listen! You must climb again; you must
+climb alone; but when I am gone, your climbing
+will be easy. You will soon find yourself
+standing, safe and high, above these treacherous
+dangerous waters. Forgive me, if I seem
+rough.&#8221; He forced her gently backwards to
+the couch. &#8220;Sit there,&#8221; he said, &#8220;and do not
+rise, until I have left the house. And if ever
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_334' name='page_334'></a>334</span>
+these moments come back to you, Lady
+Ingleby, remember, the whole blame was
+mine.... Hush, I tell you; hush! And
+will you loose my hands?&#8221;</p>
+<p>But Myra clung to those big hands, laughing,
+and weeping, and striving to speak.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Jim&mdash;my Jim!&mdash;you can&#8217;t leave me
+to climb alone, because I am all your own, and
+free to be yours and no other man&#8217;s, and together,
+thank God, we can stand on the cliff-top
+where His hand has led us. Dearest&mdash;Jim,
+dearest&mdash;don&#8217;t pull away from me,
+because I must cling on, until you have read
+these telegrams. Oh, Jim, read them quickly!
+QQQ Sir Deryck Brand brought them down
+from town this afternoon. And oh, forgive
+me that I did not tell you at once.... I
+wanted you to prove yourself, what I knew
+you to be, faithful, loyal, honourable, brave,
+the man of all men whom I trust; the man who
+will never fail me in the upward climb, until
+we stand together beneath the blue on the
+heights of God&#8217;s eternal hills.... Oh,
+Jim&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_335' name='page_335'></a>335</span></p>
+<p>Her voice faltered into silence; for Jim
+Airth knelt at her feet, his head in her lap,
+his arms flung around her, and he was sobbing
+as only a strong man can sob, when his heart
+has been strained to breaking point, and sudden
+relief has come.</p>
+<p>Myra laid her hands, gently, upon the
+roughness of his hair. Thus they stayed
+long, without speaking or moving.</p>
+<p>And in those sacred minutes Myra learned
+the lesson which ten years of wedded life had
+failed to teach: that in the strongest man there
+is, sometimes, the eternal child&mdash;eager, masterful,
+dependent, full of needs; and that, in every
+woman&#8217;s love there must therefore be an
+element of the eternal mother&mdash;tender, understanding,
+patient; wise, yet self-surrendering;
+able to bear; ready to forgive; her strength
+made perfect in weakness.</p>
+<p>At length Jim Airth lifted his head.</p>
+<p>The last beams of the setting sun, entering
+through the western window, illumined, with
+a ray of golden glory, the lovely face above
+him. But he saw on it a radiance more
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_336' name='page_336'></a>336</span>
+bright than the reflected glory of any earthly
+sunset.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Myra?&#8221; he said, awe and wonder in his
+voice. &#8220;Myra? What is it?&#8221;</p>
+<p>And clasping her hands about his neck as
+he knelt before her, she drew his head to her
+breast, and answered:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have learnt a lesson, my belovèd; a lesson
+only you could teach. And I am very happy
+and thankful, Jim; because I know, that at
+last, I&mdash;even I&mdash;am ready for wifehood.&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XXVI__WHAT_SHALL_WE_WRITE' id='XXVI__WHAT_SHALL_WE_WRITE'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_337' name='page_337'></a>337</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXVI</h2>
+<h3>&#8220;WHAT SHALL WE WRITE?&#8221;</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>The hall at the Moorhead Inn seemed
+very homelike to Jim Airth and Myra,
+as they stood together looking around it,
+on their arrival.</p>
+<p>Jim had set his heart upon bringing his
+wife there, on the evening of their wedding
+day. Therefore they had left town immediately
+after the ceremony; dined <i>en route</i>,
+and now stood, as they had so often stood
+before when bidding one another good-night,
+in the lamp-light, beside the marble
+table.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Jim dear,&#8221; whispered Myra, throwing
+back her travelling cloak, &#8220;doesn&#8217;t it all seem
+natural? Look at the old clock! Five minutes
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_338' name='page_338'></a>338</span>
+past ten. The Miss Murgatroyds must have
+gone up, in staid procession, exactly four
+minutes ago. Look at the stag&#8217;s head!
+There is the antler, on the topmost point of
+which you always hung your cap.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Myra&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, dear. Oh, I hope the Murgatroyds
+are still here. Let&#8217;s look in the book....
+Yes, see! Here are their names with date of
+arrival, but none of departure. And, oh,
+dearest, here is &#8216;Jim Airth,&#8217; as I first saw it
+written; and look at &#8216;Mrs. O&#8217;Mara&#8217; just
+beneath it! How well I remember glancing
+back from the turn of the staircase, seeing you
+come out and read it, and wishing I had written
+it better. You can set me plenty of copies
+now, Jim.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Myra!&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, dear. Do you know I am going to
+fly up and unpack. Then I will come out to
+the honeysuckle arbour and sit with you while
+you smoke. And we need not mind being late;
+because the dear ladies, not knowing we have
+returned, will not all be sleeping with doors
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_339' name='page_339'></a>339</span>
+ajar. But oh Jim, you <i>must</i>&mdash;however late
+it is&mdash;plump your boots out into the passage,
+just for the fun of making Miss Susannah&#8217;s
+heart jump unexpectedly.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Myra! Oh, I say! My wife&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, darling, I know! But I am perfectly
+certain &#8216;Aunt Ingleby&#8217; is peeping out of her
+little office at the end of the passage; also,
+Polly has finished helping Sam place our
+luggage upstairs, and I can <i>feel</i> her, hanging
+over the top banisters! Be patient for just a
+little while, my Jim. Let&#8217;s put our names
+in the visitors&#8217; book. What shall we write?
+Really we shall be obliged eventually to let
+them know who you are. Think what an
+excitement for the Miss Murgatroyds. But,
+just for once, I am going to write myself down
+by the name, of all others, I have most wished
+to bear.&#8221;</p>
+<p>So, smiling gaily up at her husband, then
+bending over the table to hide her happy face
+from the adoration of his eyes, the newly-made
+Countess of Airth and Monteith took up the
+pen; and, without pausing to remove her glove,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_340' name='page_340'></a>340</span>
+wrote in the visitors&#8217; book of the Moorhead
+Inn, in the clear bold handwriting peculiarly
+her own:</p>
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/illus-sig.png' alt='' title=''  /><br />
+</div>
+
+<hr class='full' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>The Master&#8217;s Violin</p>
+<p>By MYRTLE REED</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class='figleft'>
+<img src='images/illus-tmv.png' alt='' title=''  /><br />
+</div>
+
+<p>A Love Story with a musical atmosphere.
+A picturesque, old
+German virtuoso is the reverent
+possessor of a genuine Cremona.
+He consents to take as
+his pupil a handsome youth who
+proves to have an aptitude for
+technique, but not the soul of
+the artist. The youth has led the
+happy, careless life of a modern,
+well-to-do young American, and
+he cannot, with his meagre past,
+express the love, the longing, the passion and the tragedies
+of life and its happy phases as can the master who
+has lived life in all its fulness. But a girl comes into
+his existence, a beautiful bit of human driftwood that
+his aunt had taken into her heart and home; and through
+his passionate love for her, he learns the lessons that life
+has to give&mdash;and his soul awakens.</p>
+<p>Founded on a fact well known among artists, but not
+often recognized or discussed.</p>
+<p>If you have not read &#8220;<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Lavender and Old Lace</span>&#8221; by the
+same author, you have a double pleasure in store&mdash;for
+these two books show Myrtle Reed in her most delightful,
+fascinating vein&mdash;indeed they may be considered as masterpieces
+of compelling interest.</p>
+<div class='ce'>
+<p><i>Ask for complete free list of G. &amp; D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction</i></p>
+<div style='margin-top:1em'></div>
+<p>GROSSET &amp; DUNLAP, Publishers, NEW YORK</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>The Prodigal Judge</p>
+<p>By VAUGHAN KESTER</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>This great novel&mdash;probably the most popular book in
+this country to-day&mdash;is as human as a story from the pen
+of that great master of &#8220;immortal laughter and immortal
+tears,&#8221; Charles Dickens.</p>
+<p>The Prodigal Judge is a shabby outcast, a tavern hanger-on,
+a genial wayfarer who tarries longest where the inn
+is most hospitable, yet with that suavity, that distinctive
+politeness and that saving grace of humor peculiar to the
+American man. He has his own code of morals&mdash;very
+exalted ones&mdash;but honors them in the breach rather than
+in the observance.</p>
+<p>Clinging to the Judge closer than a brother, is Solomon
+Mahaffy&mdash;fallible and failing like the rest of us, but with
+a sublime capacity for friendship; and closer still, perhaps,
+clings little Hannibal, a boy about whose parentage
+nothing is known until the end of the story. Hannibal
+is charmed into tolerance of the Judge&#8217;s picturesque
+vices, while Miss Betty, lovely and capricious, is charmed
+into placing all her affairs, both material and sentimental,
+in the hands of this delightful old vagabond.</p>
+<p>The Judge will be a fixed star in the firmament of
+fictional characters as surely as David Harum or Col.
+Sellers. He is a source of infinite delight, while this story
+of Mr. Roster&#8217;s is one of the finest examples of American
+literary craftmanship.</p>
+<div class='ce'>
+<p><i>Ask for complete free list of G. &amp; D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction</i></p>
+<div style='margin-top:1em'></div>
+<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Grosset &amp; Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York.</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<!-- generated by ppgen.rb version: 2.18 -->
+<!-- timestamp: Fri Aug 08 17:06:22 -0600 2008 -->
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Mistress of Shenstone, by Florence L. Barclay
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+</body>
+</html>
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+Project Gutenberg's The Mistress of Shenstone, by Florence L. Barclay
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Mistress of Shenstone
+
+Author: Florence L. Barclay
+
+Release Date: August 9, 2008 [EBook #26235]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MISTRESS OF SHENSTONE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+THE MISTRESS OF SHENSTONE
+
+By
+Florence L. Barclay
+
+Author Of
+The Rosary, Etc.
+
+Grosset & Dunlap
+Publishers :: New York
+
+----------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+Copyright, 1910
+BY
+FLORENCE L. BARCLAY
+
+The Rosary                        The Following of the Star
+The Mistress of Shenstone         The Broken Halo
+Through the Postern Gate          The Wall of Partition
+The Upas Tree                     My Heart's Right There
+
+This edition is issued under arrangement with the publishers
+G. P. Putnam's Sons, New York and London
+
+The Knickerbocker Press, New York
+
+----------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+To
+C. W. B.
+
+----------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+CONTENTS
+
+CHAPTER                                      PAGE
+      I  On the Terrace at Shenstone            1
+     II  The Forerunner                         8
+    III  What Peter Knew                       23
+     IV  In Safe Hands                         48
+      V  Lady Ingleby's Rest-Cure              61
+     VI  At The Moorhead Inn                   77
+    VII  Mrs. O'Mara's Correspondence          82
+   VIII  In Horseshoe Cove                    105
+     IX  Jim Airth To The Rescue              111
+      X  "Yeo Ho, We Go!"                     114
+     XI  'Twixt Sea And Sky                   129
+    XII  Under The Morning Star               152
+   XIII  The Awakening                        159
+    XIV  Golden Days                          170
+     XV  "Where Is Lady Ingleby?"             190
+    XVI  Under The Beeches At Shenstone       205
+   XVII  "Surely You Knew?"                   214
+  XVIII  What Billy Had To Tell               220
+    XIX  Jim Airth Decides                    231
+     XX  A Better Point Of View               250
+    XXI  Michael Veritas                      260
+   XXII  Lord Ingleby's Wife                  271
+  XXIII  What Billy Knew                      289
+   XXIV  Mrs. Dalmain Reviews the Situation   303
+    XXV  The Test                             327
+   XXVI  "What Shall We Write?"               337
+
+----------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+
+
+
+THE MISTRESS OF SHENSTONE
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+ON THE TERRACE AT SHENSTONE
+
+
+Three o'clock on a dank afternoon, early in November. The wintry
+sunshine, in fitful gleams, pierced the greyness of the leaden sky.
+
+The great trees in Shenstone Park stood gaunt and bare, spreading wide
+arms over the sodden grass. All nature seemed waiting the first fall of
+winter's snow, which should hide its deadness and decay under a lovely
+pall of sparkling white, beneath which a promise of fresh life to come
+might gently move and stir; and, eventually, spring forth.
+
+The Mistress of Shenstone moved slowly up and down the terrace, wrapped
+in her long cloak, listening to the soft "drip, drip" of autumn all
+around; noting the silent fall of the last dead leaves; the steely grey
+of the lake beyond; the empty flower-garden; the deserted lawn.
+
+The large stone house had a desolate appearance, most of the rooms being,
+evidently, closed; but, in one or two, cheerful log-fires blazed, casting
+a ruddy glow upon the window-panes, and sending forth a tempting promise
+of warmth and cosiness within.
+
+A tiny white toy-poodle walked the terrace with his mistress--an agitated
+little bundle of white curls; sometimes running round and round her; then
+hurrying on before, or dropping behind, only to rush on, in unexpected
+haste, at the corners; almost tripping her up, as she turned.
+
+"Peter," said Lady Ingleby, on one of these occasions, "I do wish you
+would behave in a more rational manner! Either come to heel and follow
+sedately, as a dog of your age should do; or trot on in front, in the
+gaily juvenile manner you assume when Michael takes you out for a walk;
+but, for goodness sake, don't be so fidgety; and don't run round and
+round me in this bewildering way, or I shall call for William, and send
+you in. I only wish Michael could see you!"
+
+The little animal looked up at her, pathetically, through his tumbled
+curls--a soft silky mass, which had earned for him his name of
+Shockheaded Peter. His eyes, red-rimmed from the cold wind, had that
+unseeing look, often noticeable in a very old dog. Yet there was in them,
+and in the whole pose of his tiny body, an anguish of anxiety, which
+could not have escaped a genuine dog-lover. Even Lady Ingleby became
+partially aware of it. She stooped and patted his head.
+
+"Poor little Peter," she said, more kindly. "It is horrid, for us both,
+having Michael so far away at this tiresome war. But he will come home
+before long; and we shall forget all the anxiety and loneliness. It will
+be spring again. Michael will have you properly clipped, and we will go
+to Brighton, where you enjoy trotting about, and hearing people call you
+'The British Lion.' I verily believe you consider yourself the size of
+the lions in Trafalgar Square! I cannot imagine why a great big man, such
+as Michael, is so devoted to a tiny scrap of a dog, such as you! Now, if
+you were a Great Dane, or a mighty St. Bernard--! However, Michael loves
+us both, and we both love Michael; so we must be nice to each other,
+little Peter, while he is away."
+
+Myra Ingleby smiled, drew the folds of her cloak more closely around her,
+and moved on. A small white shadow, with no wag to its tail, followed
+dejectedly behind.
+
+And the dead leaves, loosing their hold of the sapless branches,
+fluttered to the sodden turf; and the soft "drip, drip" of autumn fell
+all around.
+
+The door of the lower hall opened. A footman, bringing a telegram, came
+quickly out. His features were set, in well-trained impassivity; but his
+eyelids flickered nervously as he handed the silver salver to his
+mistress.
+
+Lady Ingleby's lovely face paled to absolute whiteness beneath her large
+beaver hat; but she took up the orange envelope with a steady hand,
+opening it with fingers which did not tremble. As she glanced at the
+signature, the colour came back to her cheeks.
+
+"From Dr. Brand," she said, with an involuntary exclamation of relief;
+and the waiting footman turned and nodded furtively toward the house. A
+maid, at a window, dropped the blind, and ran to tell the anxious
+household all was well.
+
+Meanwhile, Lady Ingleby read her telegram.
+
+  Visiting patient in your neighbourhood. Can you put me up for the
+  night? Arriving 4.30.
+
+  Deryck Brand.
+
+Lady Ingleby turned to the footman. "William," she said, "tell Mrs.
+Jarvis, Sir Deryck Brand is called to this neighbourhood, and will stay
+here to-night. They can light a fire at once in the magnolia room, and
+prepare it for him. He will be here in an hour. Send the motor to the
+station. Tell Groatley we will have tea in my sitting-room as soon as Sir
+Deryck arrives. Send down word to the Lodge to Mrs. O'Mara, that I shall
+want her up here this evening. Oh, and--by the way--mention at once at
+the Lodge that there is no further news from abroad."
+
+"Yes, m' lady," said the footman; and Myra Ingleby smiled at the
+reflection, in the lad's voice and face, of her own immense relief. He
+turned and hastened to the house; Peter, in a sudden access of misplaced
+energy, barking furiously at his heels.
+
+Lady Ingleby moved to the front of the terrace and stood beside one of
+the stone lions, close to an empty vase, which in summer had been a
+brilliant mass of scarlet geraniums. Her face was glad with expectation.
+
+"Somebody to talk to, at last!" she said. "I had begun to think I should
+have to brave dear mamma, and return to town. And Sir Deryck of all
+people! He wires from Victoria, so I conclude he sees his patient _en
+route_, or in the morning. How perfectly charming of him to give me a
+whole evening. I wonder how many people would, if they knew of it, be
+breaking the tenth commandment concerning me! ... Peter, you little
+fiend! Come here! Why the footmen, and gardeners, and postmen, do not
+kick out your few remaining teeth, passes me! You pretend to be too
+unwell to eat your dinner, and then behave like a frantic hyena, because
+poor innocent William brings me a telegram! I shall write and ask Michael
+if I may have you hanged."
+
+And, in high good humour, Lady Ingleby went into the house.
+
+But, outside, the dead leaves turned slowly, and rustled on the grass;
+while the soft "drip, drip" of autumn fell all around. The dying year was
+almost dead; and nature waited for her pall of snow.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+THE FORERUNNER
+
+
+"What it is to have somebody to talk to, at last! And _you_, of all
+people, dear Doctor! Though I still fail to understand how a patient, who
+has brought you down to these parts, can wait for your visit until
+to-morrow morning, thus giving a perfectly healthy person, such as
+myself, the inestimable privilege of your company at tea, dinner, and
+breakfast, with delightful _tete-a-tetes_ in between. All the world knows
+your minutes are golden."
+
+Thus Lady Ingleby, as she poured out the doctor's tea, and handed it to
+him.
+
+Deryck Brand placed the cup carefully on his corner of the folding
+tea-table, helped himself to thin bread-and-butter; then answered, with
+his most charming smile,
+
+"Mine would be a very dismal profession dear lady, if it precluded me
+from ever having a meal, or a conversation, or from spending a pleasant
+evening, with a perfectly healthy person. I find the surest way to live
+one's life to the full, accomplishing the maximum amount of work with the
+minimum amount of strain, is to cultivate the habit of living in the
+present; giving the whole mind to the scene, the subject, the person, of
+the moment. Therefore, with your leave, we will dismiss my patients, past
+and future; and enjoy, to the full, this unexpected _tete-a-tete_."
+
+Myra Ingleby looked at her visitor. His forty-two years sat lightly on
+him, notwithstanding the streaks of silver in the dark hair just over
+each temple. There was a youthful alertness about the tall athletic
+figure; but the lean brown face, clean shaven and reposeful, held a look
+of quiet strength and power, mingled with a keen kindliness and ready
+comprehension, which inspired trust, and drew forth confidence.
+
+The burden of a great loneliness seemed lifted from Myra's heart.
+
+"Do you always put so much salt on your bread-and-butter?" she said. "And
+how glad I am to be 'the person of the moment.' Only--until this
+mysterious 'patient in the neighbourhood' demands your attention,--you
+ought to be having a complete holiday, and I must try to forget that I am
+talking to the greatest nerve specialist of the day, and only realise the
+pleasure of entertaining so good a friend of Michael's and my own.
+Otherwise I should be tempted to consult you; for I really believe, Sir
+Deryck, for the first time in my life, I am becoming neurotic."
+
+The doctor did not need to look at his hostess. His practised eye had
+already noted the thin cheeks; the haunted look; the purple shadows
+beneath the lovely grey eyes, for which the dark fringes of black
+eyelashes were not altogether accountable. He leaned forward and looked
+into the fire.
+
+"If such is really the case," he said, "that you should be aware of it,
+is so excellent a symptom, that the condition cannot be serious. But I
+want you to remember, Lady Ingleby, that I count all my patients,
+friends; also that my friends may consider themselves at liberty, at any
+moment, to become my patients. So consult me, if I can be of any use to
+you."
+
+The doctor helped himself to more bread-and-butter, folding it with
+careful precision.
+
+Lady Ingleby held out her hand for his cup, grateful that he did not
+appear to notice the rush of unexpected tears to her eyes. She busied
+herself with the urn until she could control her voice; then said, with a
+rather tremulous laugh: "Ah, thank you! Presently--if I may--I gladly
+will consult you. Meanwhile, how do you like 'the scene of the moment'?
+Do you consider my boudoir improved? Michael made all these alterations
+before he went away. The new electric lights are a patent arrangement of
+his own. And had you seen his portrait? A wonderful likeness, isn't it?"
+
+The doctor looked around him, appreciatively.
+
+"I have been admiring the room, ever since I entered," he said. "It is
+charming." Then he raised his eyes to the picture over the
+mantelpiece:--the life-sized portrait of a tall, bearded man, with the
+high brow of the scholar and thinker; the eyes of the mystic; the
+gentle unruffled expression of the saint. He appeared old enough to be
+the father of the woman in whose boudoir his portrait was the central
+object. The artist had painted him in an old Norfolk shooting-suit,
+leather leggings, hunting-crop in hand, seated in a garden chair, beside
+a rustic table. Everything in the picture was homely, old, and
+comfortable; the creases in the suit were old friends; the ancient
+tobacco pouch on the table was worn and stained. Russet-brown
+predominated, and the highest light in the painting was the clear blue
+of those dreamy, musing eyes. They were bent upon the table, where
+sat, in an expectant attitude of adoring attention, a white toy-poodle.
+The palpable devotion between the big man and the tiny dog, the
+concentrated affection with which they looked at one another, were very
+cleverly depicted. The picture might have been called: "We two"; also
+it left an impression of a friendship in which there had been no room for
+a third. The doctor glanced, for an instant, at the lovely woman on
+the lounge, behind the silver urn, and his subconsciousness propounded the
+question: "Where did _she_ come in?" But the next moment he turned
+towards the large armchair on his right, where a small dejected mass of
+white curls lay in a huddled heap. It was impossible to distinguish
+between head and tail.
+
+"Is this the little dog?" asked the doctor.
+
+"Yes; that is Peter. But in the picture he is smart and properly clipped,
+and feeling better than he does just now. Peter and Michael are devoted
+to each other; and, when Michael is away, Peter is left in my charge. But
+I am not fond of small dogs; and I really consider Peter very much
+spoilt. Also I always feel he just tolerates me because I am Michael's
+wife, and remains with me because, where I am, there Michael will return.
+But I am quite kind to him, for Michael's sake. Only he really is a nasty
+little dog; and too old to be allowed to continue. Michael always speaks
+of him as if he were quite too good to live; and, personally, I think it
+is high time he went where all good dogs go. I cannot imagine what is the
+matter with him now. Since yesterday afternoon he has refused all his
+food, and been so restless and fidgety. He always sleeps on Michael's
+bed; and, as a rule, after I have put him there, and closed the door
+between Michael's room and mine, I hear no more of Peter, until he barks
+to be let out in the morning, and my maid takes him down-stairs. But last
+night, he whined and howled for hours. At length I got up, found
+Michael's old shooting jacket--the very one in the portrait--and laid it
+on the bed. Peter crawled into it, and cuddled down, I folded the sleeves
+around him, and he seemed content. But to-day he still refuses to eat. I
+believe he is dyspeptic, or has some other complaint, such as dogs
+develop when they are old. Honestly--don't you think--a little effective
+poison, in an attractive pill----?"
+
+"Oh, hush!" said the doctor. "Peter may not be asleep."
+
+Lady Ingleby laughed. "My dear Sir Deryck! Do you suppose animals
+understand our conversation?"
+
+"Indeed I do," replied the doctor. "And more than that, they do not
+require the medium of language. Their comprehension is telepathic. They
+read our thoughts. A nervous rider or driver can terrify a horse. Dumb
+creatures will turn away from those who think of them with dislike or
+aversion; whereas a true lover of animals can win them without a spoken
+word. The thought of love and of goodwill reaches them telepathically,
+winning instant trust and response. Also, if we take the trouble to do
+so, we can, to a great extent, arrive at their ideas, in the same way."
+
+"Extraordinary!" exclaimed Lady Ingleby. "Well, I wish you would
+thought-read what is the matter with Peter. I shall not know how to face
+Michael's home-coming, if anything goes wrong with his beloved dog."
+
+The doctor lay back in his armchair; crossed his knees the one over the
+other; rested his elbows on the arms of the chair; then let his
+finger-tips meet very exactly. Instinctively he assumed the attitude in
+which he usually sat when bending his mind intently on a patient.
+Presently he turned and looked steadily at the little white heap curled
+up in the big armchair.
+
+The room was very still.
+
+"Peter!" said the doctor, suddenly.
+
+Peter sat up at once, and peeped at the doctor, through his curls.
+
+"Poor little Peter," said the doctor, kindly.
+
+Peter moved to the edge of the chair; sat very upright, and looked
+eagerly across to where the doctor was sitting. Then he wagged his tail,
+tapping the chair with quick, anxious, little taps.
+
+"The first wag I have seen in twenty-four hours," remarked Lady Ingleby;
+but neither Deryck Brand nor Shockheaded Peter heeded the remark.
+
+The anxious eyes of the dog were gazing, with an agony of question, into
+the kind keen eyes of the man.
+
+Without moving, the doctor spoke.
+
+"_Yes_, little Peter," he said.
+
+Peter's small tufted tail ceased thumping. He sat very still for a
+moment; then quietly moved back to the middle of the chair, turned round
+and round three or four times; then lay down, dropping his head between
+his paws with one long shuddering sigh, like a little child which has
+sobbed itself to sleep.
+
+The doctor turned, and looked at Lady Ingleby.
+
+"What does that mean?" queried Myra, astonished.
+
+"Little Peter asked a question," replied Sir Deryck, gravely; "and I
+answered it."
+
+"Wonderful! Will you talk this telepathy over with Michael when he comes
+home? It would interest him."
+
+The doctor looked into the fire.
+
+"It is a big subject," he said. "When I can spare the time, I am thinking
+of writing an essay on the mental and spiritual development of animals,
+as revealed in the Bible."
+
+"Balaam's ass?" suggested Lady Ingleby, promptly.
+
+The doctor smiled. "Quite so," he said. "But Balaam's ass is neither the
+only animal in the Bible, nor the most interesting case. Have you ever
+noticed the many instances in which animals immediately obeyed God's
+commands, even when those commands ran counter to their strongest
+instincts? For instance:--the lion, who met the disobedient man of God on
+the road from Bethel. The instinct of the beast, after slaying the man,
+would have been to maul the body, drag it away into his lair, and devour
+it. But the Divine command was:--that he should slay, but not eat the
+carcass, nor tear the ass. The instinct of the ass would have been to
+flee in terror from the lion; but, undoubtedly, a Divine assurance
+overcame her natural fear; and all men who passed by beheld this
+remarkable sight:--a lion and an ass standing sentry, one on either side
+of the dead body of the man of God; and there they remained until the old
+prophet from Bethel arrived, to fetch away the body and bury it."
+
+"Extraordinary!" said Lady Ingleby. "So they did. And now one comes to
+think of it there are plenty of similar instances. The instinct of the
+serpent which Moses lifted up on a pole, would have been to come
+scriggling down, and go about biting the Israelites, instead of staying
+up on the pole, to be looked at for their healing."
+
+The doctor smiled. "Quite so," he said, "Only, we must not quote him as
+an instance; because, being made of brass, I fear he was devoid of
+instinct. Otherwise he would have been an excellent case in point. And I
+believe animals possess far more spiritual life than we suspect. Do you
+remember a passage in the Psalms which says that the lions 'seek their
+meat from God'? And, more striking still, in the same Psalm we read of
+the whole brute creation, that when God hides His face 'they are
+troubled.' Good heavens!" said the doctor, earnestly; "I wish _our_
+spiritual life always answered to these two tests:--that God's will
+should be paramount over our strongest instincts; and that any cloud
+between us and the light of His face, should cause us instant trouble of
+soul."
+
+"I like that expression 'spiritual life,'" said Lady Ingleby. "I am sure
+you mean by it what other people sometimes express so differently. Did
+you hear of the Duchess of Meldrum attending that big evangelistic
+meeting in the Albert Hall? I really don't know exactly what it was. Some
+sort of non-sectarian mission, I gather, with a preacher over from
+America; and the meetings went on for a fortnight. It would never have
+occurred to me to go to them. But the dear old duchess always likes to be
+'in the know' and to sample everything. Besides, she holds a proprietary
+stall. So she sailed into the Albert Hall one afternoon, in excellent
+time, and remained throughout the entire proceedings. She enjoyed the
+singing; thought the vast listening crowd, marvellous; was moved to tears
+by the eloquence of the preacher, and was leaving the hall more touched
+than she had been for years, and fully intending to return, bringing
+others with her, when a smug person, hovering about the entrance,
+accosted her with: 'Excuse me madam; are you a Christian?' The duchess
+raised her lorgnette in blank amazement, and looked him tip and down.
+Very likely the tears still glistened upon her proud old face. Anyway
+this impossible person appears to have considered her a promising case.
+Emboldened by her silence, he laid his hand upon her arm, and repeated
+his question: 'Madam, are you a Christian?' Then the duchess awoke to the
+situation with a vengeance. 'My good man,' she said, clearly and
+deliberately, so that all in the lobby could hear; 'I should have thought
+it would have been perfectly patent to your finely trained perceptions,
+that I am an engaging mixture of Jew, Turk, Infidel, and Heathen Chinee!
+Now, if you will kindly stand aside, I will pass to my carriage.'--And
+the duchess sampled no more evangelistic meetings!"
+
+The doctor sighed. "Tactless," he said. "Ah, the pity of it, when 'fools
+rush in where angels fear to tread!'"
+
+"People scream with laughter, when the duchess tells it," said Lady
+Ingleby; "but then she imitates the unctuous person so exactly; and she
+does not mention the tears. I have them from an eye-witness. But--as I
+was saying--I like your expression: 'spiritual life.' It really holds a
+meaning; and, though one may have to admit one does not possess any, or,
+that what one does possess is at a low ebb, yet one sees the genuine
+thing in others, and it is something to believe in, at all events.--Look
+how peacefully little Peter is sleeping. You have evidently set his mind
+at rest. That is Michael's armchair; and, therefore, Peter's. Now we will
+send away the tea-things; and then--may I become a patient?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+WHAT PETER KNEW
+
+
+"Isn't my good Groatley a curious looking person?" said Lady Ingleby, as
+the door closed behind the butler. "I call him the Gryphon, because he
+looks perpetually astonished. His eyebrows are like black horseshoes, and
+they mount higher and higher up his forehead as one's sentence proceeds.
+But he is very faithful, and knows his work, and Michael approves him. Do
+you like this portrait of Michael? Garth Dalmain stayed here a few months
+before he lost his sight, poor boy, and painted us both. I believe mine
+was practically his last portrait. It hangs in the dining-room."
+
+The doctor moved his chair opposite the fireplace, so that he could sit
+facing the picture over the mantelpiece, yet turn readily toward Lady
+Ingleby on his left. On his right, little Peter, with an occasional
+sobbing sigh, slept heavily in his absent master's chair. The log-fire
+burned brightly. The electric light, from behind amber glass, sent a
+golden glow as of sunshine through the room. The dank damp drip of autumn
+had no place in this warm luxury. The curtains were closely drawn; and
+that which is not seen, can be forgotten.
+
+The doctor glanced at the clock. The minute-hand pointed to the quarter
+before six.
+
+He lifted his eyes to the picture.
+
+"I hardly know Lord Ingleby sufficiently well to give an opinion; but I
+should say it is an excellent likeness, possessing, to a large degree,
+the peculiar quality of all Dalmain's portraits:--the more you look at
+them, the more you see in them. They are such extraordinary character
+studies. With your increased knowledge of the person, grows your
+appreciation of the cleverness of the portrait."
+
+"Yes," said Lady Ingleby, leaning forward to look intently up at the
+picture. "It often startles me as I come into the room, because I see a
+fresh expression on the face, just according to my own mood, or what I
+happen to have been doing; and I realise Michael's mind on the subject
+more readily from the portrait than from my own knowledge of him. Garth
+Dalmain was a genius!"
+
+"Now tell me," said the doctor, gently. "Why did you leave town, your
+many friends, your interests there, in order to bury yourself down here,
+during this dismal autumn weather? Surely the strain of waiting for news
+would have been less, within such easy reach of the War Office and of the
+evening papers."
+
+Lady Ingleby laughed, rather mirthlessly.
+
+"I came away, Sir Deryck, partly to escape from dear mamma; and as you do
+not know dear mamma, it is almost impossible for you to understand how
+essential it was to escape. When Michael is away, I am defenceless. Mamma
+swoops down; takes up her abode in my house; reduces my household,
+according to their sex and temperament, to rage, hysterics, or despair;
+tells unpalatable home-truths to my friends, so that all--save the
+duchess--flee discomforted. Then mamma proceeds to 'divide the spoil'! In
+other words: she lies in wait for my telegrams, and opens them herself,
+saying that if they contain _good_ news, a dutiful daughter should
+delight in at once sharing it with her; whereas, if they contain _bad_
+news, which heaven forbid!--and surely, with mamma snorting skyward,
+heaven would not venture to do otherwise!--_she_ is the right person to
+break it to me, gently. I bore it for six weeks; then fled down here,
+well knowing that not even the dear delight of bullying me would bring
+mamma to Shenstone in autumn."
+
+The doctor's face was grave. For a moment he looked silently into the
+fire. He was a man of many ideals, and foremost among them was his ideal
+of the relation which should be between parents and children; of the
+loyalty to a mother, which, even if forced to admit faults or failings,
+should tenderly shield them from the knowledge or criticism of outsiders.
+It hurt him, as a sacrilege, to hear a daughter speak thus of her mother;
+yet he knew well, from facts which were common knowledge, how little
+cause the sweet, lovable woman at his side had to consider the tie either
+a sacred or a tender one. He had come to help, not to find fault. Also,
+the minute-hand was hastening towards the hour; and the final
+instructions of the kind-hearted old Duchess of Meldrum, as she parted
+from him at the War Office, had been: "Remember! Six o'clock from London.
+I shall _insist_ upon its being kept back until then. If they make
+difficulties, I shall camp in the entrance and 'hold up' every messenger
+who attempts to pass out. But I am accustomed to have my own way with
+these good people. I should not hesitate to ring up Buckingham Palace, if
+necessary, as they very well know! So you may rest assured it will not
+leave London until six o'clock. It gives you ample time."
+
+Therefore the doctor said: "I understand. It does not come within my own
+experience; yet I think I understand. But tell me, Lady Ingleby. If bad
+news were to come, would you sooner receive it direct from the War
+Office, in the terribly crude wording which cannot be avoided in those
+telegrams; or would you rather that a friend--other than your
+mother--broke it to you, more gently?"
+
+Myra's eyes flashed. She sat up with instant animation.
+
+"Oh, I would receive it direct," she said. "It would be far less hard, if
+it were official. I should hear the roll of the drums, and see the wave
+of the flag. For England, and for Honour! A soldier's daughter, and a
+soldier's wife, should be able to stand up to anything. If they had to
+tell me Michael was in great danger, I should share his danger in
+receiving the news without flinching. If he were wounded, as I read the
+telegram I should receive a wound myself, and try to be as brave as he.
+All which came direct from the war, would unite me to Michael. But
+interfering friends, however well-meaning, would come between. If _he_
+had not been shielded from a bullet or a sword-thrust, why should _I_ be
+shielded from the knowledge of his wound?"
+
+The doctor screened his face with his hand,
+
+"I see," he said.
+
+The clock struck six.
+
+"But that was not the only reason I left town," continued Lady Ingleby,
+with evident effort. Then she flung out both hands towards him. "Oh,
+doctor! I wonder if I might tell you a thing which has been a burden on
+my heart and life for years!"
+
+There followed a tense moment of silence; but the doctor was used to such
+moments, and could usually determine during the silence, whether the
+confidence should be allowed or avoided. He turned and looked steadily at
+the lovely wistful face.
+
+It was the face of an exceedingly beautiful woman, nearing thirty. But
+the lovely eyes still held the clear candour of the eyes of a little
+child, the sweet lips quivered with quickly felt emotion, the low brow
+showed no trace of shame or sin. The doctor knew he was in the presence
+of one of the most popular hostesses, one of the most admired women, in
+the kingdom. Yet his keen professional insight revealed to him an
+arrested development; possibilities unfulfilled; a problem of inadequacy
+and consequent disappointment, to which he had not the key. But those
+outstretched hands eagerly held it towards him. Could he bring help, if
+he accepted a knowledge of the solution; or--did help come too late?
+
+"Dear Lady Ingleby," he said, quietly; "tell me anything you like; that
+is to say, anything which you feel assured Lord Ingleby would allow
+discussed with a third person."
+
+Myra leaned back among the cushions and laughed--a gay little laugh, half
+of amusement, half of relief.
+
+"Oh, Michael would not mind!" she said. "Anything Michael would mind, I
+have always told straight to himself; and they were silly little things;
+such as foolish people trying to make love to me; or a foreign prince,
+with moustaches like the German Emperor's, offering to shoot Michael, if
+I would promise to marry him when his period of consequent imprisonment
+was over. I cut the idiots who had presumed to make love to me, ever
+after; and assured the foreign prince, I should undoubtedly kill him
+myself, if he hurt a hair of Michael's head! No, dear doctor. My life is
+clear of all that sort of complication. My trouble is a harder one,
+involving one's whole life-problem. And that problem is incompetence and
+inadequacy--not towards the world, I should not care a rap for that; but
+towards the one to whom I owe most: towards Michael,--my husband."
+
+The doctor moved uneasily in his chair, and glanced at the clock.
+
+"Oh, hush!" he said. "Do not----"
+
+"No!" cried Myra. "You must not stop me. Let me at last have the relief
+of speech! My friend, I am twenty-eight; I have had ten years of married
+life; yet I do not believe I have ever really grown up! In heart and
+brain I am an undeveloped child, and I know it; and, worse still, Michael
+knows it, and--_Michael does not mind_. Listen! It dates back to years
+ago. Mamma never allowed any of her daughters to grow up. We were
+permitted no individuality of our own, no opinions, no independence. All
+that was required of us, was to 'do her behests, and follow in her
+train.' Forgive the misquotation. We were always children in mamma's
+eyes. We grew tall; we grew good-looking; but we never grew up. We
+remained children, to be snubbed, domineered over, and bullied. My
+sisters, who were good children, had plenty of jam and cake; and,
+eventually, husbands after mamma's own heart were found for them. Perhaps
+you know how those marriages have turned out?"
+
+Lady Ingleby paused, and the doctor made an almost imperceptible sign of
+assent. One of the ladies in question, a most unhappy woman, was under
+treatment in his Mental Sanatorium at that very moment; but he doubted
+whether Lady Ingleby knew it.
+
+"I was the black sheep," continued Myra, finding no remark forthcoming.
+"Nothing I did was ever right; everything I did was always wrong. When
+Michael met me I was nearly eighteen, the height I am now, but in the
+nursery, as regards mental development or knowledge of the world; and, as
+regards character, a most unhappy, utterly reckless, little child.
+Michael's love, when at last I realised it, was wonderful to me.
+Tenderness, appreciation, consideration, were experiences so novel that
+they would have turned my head, had not the elation they produced been
+counterbalanced by a gratitude which was overwhelming; and a terror of
+being handed back to mamma, which would have made me agree to anything.
+Years later, Michael told me that what first attracted him to me was a
+look in my eyes just like the look in those of a favourite spaniel of
+his, who was always in trouble with everyone else, and had just been
+accidentally shot, by a keeper. Michael told me this himself; and really
+thought I should be pleased! Somehow it gave me the key to my standing
+with him--just that of a very tenderly-loved pet dog. No words can say
+how good he has always been to me. If I lost him, I should lose my
+all--everything which makes home, home; and life a safe, and certain,
+thing. But if _he_ lost little Peter, it would be a more real loss to him
+than if he lost me; because Peter is more intelligent for his size, and
+really more of an actual companion to Michael, than I am. Many a time,
+when he has passed through my room on the way to his, with Peter tucked
+securely under his arm; and saying, 'Good-night, my dear,' to me, has
+gone in and shut the door, I have felt I could slay little Peter, because
+he had the better place, and because he looked at me through his curls,
+as he was carried away, as if to say: '_You_ are out of it!' Yet I knew I
+had all I deserved; and Michael's kindness and goodness and patience were
+beyond words. Only--only--ah, _can_ you understand? I would sooner he had
+found fault and scolded; I would sooner have been shaken and called a
+fool, than smiled at, and left alone. I was in the nursery when he
+married me; I have been in the school-room ever since, trying to learn
+life's lessons, alone, without a teacher. Nothing has helped me to grow
+up. Michael has always told me I am perfect, and everything I do is
+perfect, and he does not want me different. But I have never really
+shared his life and interests. If I make idiotic mistakes he does not
+correct me. I have to find them out, when I repeat them before others.
+When I made that silly blunder about the brazen serpent, you so kindly
+put me right. Michael would have smiled and let it pass as not worth
+correcting; then I should have repeated it before a roomful of people,
+and wondered why they looked amused! Ah, but what do I care for people,
+or the world! It is my true place beside Michael I want to win. I want to
+'grow up unto him in all things.' Yes, I know that is a text. I am famous
+for misquotations, or rather, misapplications. But it expresses my
+meaning--as the duchess remarks, when _she_ has said something mild under
+provocation, and her parrot swears!--And now tell me, dear wise kind
+doctor; you, who have been the lifelong friend of that grand creature,
+Jane Dalmain; you, who have done so much for dozens of women I know; tell
+me how I can cease to be inadequate towards my husband."
+
+The passionate flow of words ceased suddenly. Lady Ingleby leaned back
+against the cushions.
+
+Peter sighed in his sleep.
+
+A clock in the hall chimed the quarter after six.
+
+The doctor looked steadily into the fire. He seemed to find speech
+difficult.
+
+At last he said, in a voice which shook slightly: "Dear Lady Ingleby, he
+did not--he does not--think you so."
+
+"No, no!" she cried, sitting forward again. "He thinks of me nothing but
+what is kind and right. But he never expected me to be more than a nice,
+affectionate, good-looking dog; and I--I have not known how to be better
+than his expectations. But, although he is so patient, he sometimes grows
+unutterably tired of being with me. All other pet creatures are dumb; but
+I love talking, and I constantly say silly things, which do not _sound_
+silly, until I have said them. He goes off to Norway, fishing; to the
+Engadine, mountain-climbing; to this horrid war, risking his precious
+life. Anywhere to get away alone; anywhere to----"
+
+"Hush," said the doctor, and laid a firm brown hand, for a moment, on the
+white fluttering fingers. "You are overwrought by the suspense of these
+past weeks. You know perfectly well that Lord Ingleby volunteered for
+this border war because he was so keen on experimenting with his new
+explosives, and on trying these ideas for using electricity in modern
+warfare, at which he has worked so long."
+
+"Oh, yes, I know," said Myra, smiling wistfully. "Tiresome things, which
+keep him hours in his laboratory. And he has some very clever plan for
+long distance signalling from fort to fort--hieroglyphics in the sky,
+isn't it? you know what I mean. But the fact that he volunteered into all
+this danger, merely to do experimenting, makes it harder to bear than if
+he had been at the head of his old regiment, and gone at the imperative
+call of duty. However--nothing matters so long as he comes home safely.
+And now you--you, Sir Deryck--must help me to become a real helpmeet to
+Michael. Tell me how you helped--oh, very well, we will not mention
+names. But give me wise advice. Give me hope; give me courage. Make me
+strong."
+
+The doctor looked at the clock; and, even as he looked, the chimes in the
+hall rang out the half-hour.
+
+"You have not yet told me," he said, speaking very slowly, as if
+listening for some other sound; "you have not yet told me, your second
+reason for leaving town."
+
+"Ah," said Lady Ingleby, and her voice held a deeper, older, tone--a note
+bordering on tragedy. "Ah! I left town, Sir Deryck, because other people
+were teaching me love-lessons, and I did not want to learn them apart
+from Michael. I stayed with Jane Dalmain and her blind husband, before
+they went back to Gleneesh. You remember? They were in town for the
+production of his symphony. I saw that ideal wedded life, and I realised
+something of what a perfect mating of souls could mean. And then--well,
+there were others; people who did not understand how wholly I am
+Michael's; nothing actually wrong; but not so fresh and youthful as
+Billy's innocent adoration; and I feared I should accidentally learn what
+only Michael must teach. Therefore I fled away! Oh, doctor; if I ever
+learned from another man, that which I have failed to learn from my own
+husband, I should lie at Michael's feet and implore him to kill me!"
+
+The doctor looked up at the portrait over the mantelpiece. The calm
+passionless face smiled blandly at the tiny dog. One sensitive hand,
+white and delicate as a woman's, was raised, forefinger uplifted, gently
+holding the attention of the little animal's eager eyes. The magic skill
+of the artist supplied the doctor with the key to the problem. A
+_woman_--as mate, as wife, as part of himself, was not a necessity in the
+life of this thinker, inventor, scholar, saint. He could appreciate dumb
+devotion; he was capable of unlimited kindness, leniency, patience,
+toleration. But woman and dog alike, remained outside the citadel of his
+inner self. Had not her eyes resembled those of a favourite spaniel, he
+would very probably not have wedded the lovely woman who, now, during ten
+years had borne his name; and even then he might not have done so, had
+not the tyranny of her mother, awakening his instinct of protection
+towards the weak and oppressed, aroused in him a determination to
+withstand that tyranny, and to carry her off triumphantly to freedom.
+
+The longer the doctor looked, the more persistently the picture said; "We
+two; and where does _she_ come in?"--Righteous wrath arose in the heart
+of Deryck Brand; for his ideal as to man's worship of woman was a high
+one. As he thought of the closed door; of the lonely wife, humbly jealous
+of a toy-poodle, yet blaming herself only, for her loneliness, his jaw
+set, and his brow darkened. And all the while he listened for a sound
+from the outer world which must soon come.
+
+Lady Ingleby noticed his intent gaze, and, leaning forward, also looked
+up at the picture. The firelight shone on her lovely face, and on the
+gleaming softness of her hair. Her lips parted in a tender smile; a pure
+radiance shone from her eyes.
+
+"Ah, he _is_ so good!" she said. "In all the years, he has never once
+spoken harshly to me. And see how lovingly he looks at Peter, who really
+is a most unattractive little dog. Did you ever hear the duchess's _bon
+mot_ about Michael? He and I once stayed together at Overdene; but she
+did not ask us again until he was abroad, fishing in Norway; so of course
+I went by myself. The duchess always does those things frankly, and
+explains them. Therefore on this occasion she said: 'My dear, I enjoy a
+visit from you; but you must only come, when you can come alone. I will
+never undertake again, to live up to your good Michael. It really was a
+case of St. Michael and All Angels. _He_ was St. Michael, and _we_ had to
+be all angels!' Wasn't it like the duchess; and a beautiful testimony to
+Michael's consistent goodness? Oh, I wish you knew him better. And, for
+the matter of that, I wish I knew him better! But after all I _am_ his
+wife. Nothing can rob me of that. And don't you think--when Michael comes
+home this time--somehow, all will be different; better than ever
+before?"
+
+The hall clock chimed three-quarters after the hour.
+
+The clang of a bell resounded through the silent house.
+
+Peter sat up, and barked once, sharply.
+
+The doctor rose and stood with his back to the fire, facing the door.
+
+Myra's question remained unanswered.
+
+Hurried steps approached.
+
+A footman entered, with a telegram for Lady Ingleby.
+
+She took it with calm fingers, and without the usual sinking of the heart
+from sudden apprehension. Her mind was full of the conversation of the
+moment, and the doctor's presence made her feel so strong and safe; so
+sure of no approach of evil tidings.
+
+She did not hear Sir Deryck's quiet voice say to the man: "You need not
+wait."
+
+As the door closed, the doctor turned away, and stood looking into the
+fire.
+
+The room was very still.
+
+Lady Ingleby opened her telegram, unfolded it slowly, and read it through
+twice.
+
+Afterwards she sat on, in such absolute silence that, at length, the
+doctor turned and looked at her.
+
+She met his eyes, quietly.
+
+"Sir Deryck," she said, "it is from the War Office. They tell me Michael
+has been killed. Do you think it is true?"
+
+She handed him the telegram. Taking it from her, he read it in silence.
+Then: "Dear Lady Ingleby," he said, very gently, "I fear there is no
+doubt. He has given his life for his country. You will be as brave in
+giving him, as he would wish his wife to be."
+
+Myra smiled; but the doctor saw her face slowly whiten.
+
+"Yes," she said; "oh, yes! I will not fail him. I will be adequate--at
+last." Then, as if a sudden thought had struck her: "Did you know of
+this? Is it why you came?"
+
+"Yes," said the doctor, slowly. "The duchess sent me. She was at the War
+Office this morning when the news came in, inquiring for Ronald Ingram,
+who has been wounded, and is down with fever. She telephoned for me, and
+insisted on the telegram being kept back until six o'clock this evening,
+in order to give me time to get here, and to break the news to you first,
+if it seemed well."
+
+Myra gazed at him, wide-eyed. "And you let me say all that, about Michael
+and myself?"
+
+"Dear lady," said the doctor, and few had ever heard that deep firm
+voice, so nearly tremulous, "I could not stop you. But you did not say
+one word which was not absolutely loving and loyal."
+
+"How could I have?" queried Myra, her face growing whiter, and her eyes
+wider and more bright. "I have never had a thought which was not loyal
+and loving."
+
+"I know," said the doctor. "Poor brave heart,--I know."
+
+Myra took up the telegram, and read it again.
+
+"Killed," she said; "_killed_. I wish I knew how."
+
+"The duchess is ready to come to you immediately, if you would like to
+have her," suggested the doctor.
+
+"No," said Myra, smiling vaguely. "No; I think not. Not unless dear mamma
+comes. If that happens we must wire for the duchess, because now--now
+Michael is away--she is the only person who can cope with mamma. But
+please not, otherwise; because--well, you see,--she said she could not
+live up to Michael; and it does not sound funny now."
+
+"Is there anybody you would wish sent for at once?" inquired the doctor,
+wondering how much larger and brighter those big grey eyes could grow;
+and whether any living face had ever been so absolutely colourless.
+
+"Anybody I should wish sent for at once? I don't know. Oh, yes--there is
+one person; if she could come. Jane--you know? Jane Dalmain. I always say
+she is like the bass of a tune; so solid, and satisfactory, and beneath
+one. Nothing very bad could happen, if Jane were there. But of course
+this _has_ happened; hasn't it?"
+
+The doctor sat down.
+
+"I wired to Gleneesh this morning," he said. "Jane will be here early
+to-morrow."
+
+"Then lots of people knew before I did?" said Lady Ingleby.
+
+The doctor did not answer.
+
+She rose, and stood looking down into the fire; her tall graceful figure
+drawn up to its full height, her back to the doctor, whose watchful eyes
+never left her for an instant.
+
+Suddenly she looked across to Lord Ingleby's chair.
+
+"And I believe _Peter_ knew," she said, in a loud, high-pitched voice.
+"Good heavens! Peter knew; and refused his food because Michael was dead.
+And _I_ said he had dyspepsia! Michael, oh Michael! Your wife didn't know
+you were dead; but your dog knew! Oh Michael, Michael! Little Peter
+knew!"
+
+She lifted her arms toward the picture of the big man and the tiny dog.
+
+Then she swayed backward.
+
+The doctor caught her, as she fell.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+IN SAFE HANDS
+
+
+All through the night Lady Ingleby lay gazing before her, with bright
+unseeing eyes.
+
+The quiet woman from the Lodge, who had been, before her own marriage, a
+devoted maid-companion to Lady Ingleby, arrived in speechless sorrow, and
+helped the doctor tenderly with all there was to do.
+
+But when consciousness returned, and realisation, they were accompanied
+by no natural expressions of grief; simply a settled stony silence; the
+white set face; the bright unseeing eyes.
+
+Margaret O'Mara knelt, and wept, and prayed, kissing the folded hands
+upon the silken quilt. But Lady Ingleby merely smiled vaguely; and once
+she said: "Hush, my dear Maggie. At last we will be adequate."
+
+Several times during the night the doctor came, sitting silently beside
+the bed, with watchful eyes and quiet touch. Myra scarcely noticed him,
+and again he wondered how much larger the big grey eyes would grow, in
+the pale setting of that lovely face.
+
+Once he signed to the other watcher to follow him into the corridor.
+Closing the door, he turned and faced her. He liked this quiet woman, in
+her simple black merino gown, linen collar and cuffs, and neatly braided
+hair. There was an air of refinement and gentle self-control about her,
+which pleased the doctor.
+
+"Mrs. O'Mara," he said; "she must weep, and she must sleep."
+
+"She does not weep easily, sir," replied Margaret O'Mara, "and I have
+known her to lie widely awake throughout an entire night with less cause
+for sorrow than this."
+
+"Ah," said the doctor; and he looked keenly at the woman from the Lodge.
+"I wonder what else you have known?" he thought. But he did not voice the
+conjecture. Deryck Brand rarely asked questions of a third person. His
+patients never had to find out that his knowledge of them came through
+the gossip or the breach of confidence of others.
+
+At last he could allow that fixed unseeing gaze no longer. He decided to
+do what was necessary, with a quiet nod, in response to Margaret O'Mara's
+imploring look. He turned back the loose sleeve of the silk nightdress,
+one firm hand grasped the soft arm beneath it; the other passed over it
+for a moment with swift skilful pressure. Even Margaret's anxious eyes
+saw nothing more; and afterwards Myra often wondered what could have
+caused that tiny scar upon the whiteness of her arm.
+
+Before long she was quietly asleep. The doctor stood looking down upon
+her. There was tragedy to him in this perfect loveliness. Now the clear
+candour of the grey eyes was veiled, the childlike look was no longer
+there. It was the face of a woman--and of a woman who had lived, and who
+had suffered.
+
+Watching it, the doctor reviewed the history of those ten years of wedded
+life; piecing together that which she herself had told him; his own
+shrewd surmisings; and facts, which were common knowledge.
+
+So much for the past. The present, for a few hours at least, was merciful
+oblivion. What would the future bring? She had bravely and faithfully put
+from her all temptation to learn the glory of life, and the completeness
+of love, from any save from her own husband. And he had failed to teach.
+Can the deaf teach harmony, or the blind reveal the beauties of blended
+colour?
+
+But the future held no such limitations. The "garden enclosed" was no
+longer barred against all others by an owner who ignored its fragrance.
+The gate would be on the latch, though all unconscious until an eager
+hand pressed it, that its bolts and bars were gone, and it dare swing
+open wide.
+
+"Ah," mused the doctor. "Will the right man pass by? Youth teaches youth;
+but is there a man amongst us strong enough, and true enough, and pure
+enough, to teach this woman, nearing thirty, lessons which should have
+been learned during the golden days of girlhood. Surely somewhere on this
+earth the One Man walks, and works, and waits, to whom she is to be the
+One Woman? God send him her way, in the fulness of time."
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+And in that very hour--while at last Myra slept, and the doctor watched,
+and mused, and wondered--in that very hour, under an Eastern sky, a
+strong man, sick of life, worn and disillusioned, fighting a deadly
+fever, in the sultry atmosphere of a soldier's tent, cried out in
+bitterness of soul: "O God, let me die!" Then added the "never-the-less"
+which always qualifies a brave soul's prayer for immunity from pain:
+"Unless--unless, O God, there be still some work left on this earth which
+only I can do."
+
+And the doctor had just said: "Send him her way, O God, in the fulness of
+time."
+
+The two prayers reached the Throne of Omniscience together.
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+Deryck Brand, looking up, saw the quiet eyes of Margaret O'Mara gazing
+gratefully at him, across the bed. "Thank you," she whispered.
+
+He smiled. "Never to be done lightly, Mrs. O'Mara," he said. "Everything
+else should be tried first. But there are exceptions to the strictest
+rules, and it is fatal weakness to hesitate when confronted by the
+exception. Send for me, when she wakes; and, meanwhile, lie down on that
+couch yourself and have some sleep. You are worn out."
+
+The doctor turned away; but not before he had caught the sudden look of
+dumb anguish which leaped into those quiet eyes. He reached the door;
+paused a moment; then came back.
+
+"Mrs. O'Mara," he said, with a hand upon her shoulder, "you have a sorrow
+of your own?"
+
+She drew away from him, in terror. "Oh, hush!" she whispered. "Don't ask!
+Don't unnerve me, sir. Help me to think of her, only." Then, more calmly:
+"But of course I shall think of none but her, while she needs me.
+Only--only, sir--as you are so kind--" she drew from her bosom a crumpled
+telegram, and handed it to the doctor. "Mine came at the same time as
+hers," she said, simply.
+
+The doctor unfolded the War Office message.
+
+  Regret to report Sergeant O'Mara killed in assault on Targai
+  yesterday.
+
+"He was a good husband," said Margaret O'Mara, simply; "and we were very
+happy."
+
+The doctor held out his hand. "I am proud to have met you, Mrs. O'Mara.
+This seems to me the bravest thing I have ever known a woman do."
+
+She smiled through her tears. "Thank you, sir," she said, tremulously.
+"But it is easier to bear my own sorrow, when I have work to do for
+her."
+
+"God Himself comfort you, my friend," said Deryck Brand, and it was all
+he could trust his voice to say; nor was he ashamed that he had to fumble
+blindly for the handle of the door.
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+The doctor had finished breakfast, and was asking Groatley for a
+time-table, when word reached him that Lady Ingleby was awake. He went
+upstairs immediately.
+
+Myra was sitting up in bed, propped with pillows. Her cheeks were
+flushed; her eyes bright and hard.
+
+She held out her hand to the doctor.
+
+"How good you have been," she said, speaking very fast, in a high
+unnatural voice: "I am afraid I have given you a great deal of trouble. I
+don't remember much about last night, excepting that they said Michael
+had been killed. Has Michael really been killed, do you think? And will
+they give me details? Surely I have a right to know details. Nothing can
+alter the fact that I was Michael's wife, can it? Do go to breakfast,
+Maggie. There is nothing gained by standing there, smiling, and saying
+you do not want any breakfast. Everybody wants breakfast at nine o'clock
+in the morning. I should want breakfast, if Michael had not been killed.
+Tell her she ought to have breakfast, Sir Deryck. I believe she has been
+up all night. It is such a comfort to have her. She is so brave and
+bright; and so full of sympathy."
+
+"She is very brave," said the doctor; "and you are right as to her need
+of breakfast. Go down-stairs for a little while, Mrs. O'Mara. I will stay
+with Lady Ingleby."
+
+She moved obediently to the door; but Sir Deryck reached it before her.
+And the famous London specialist held the door open for the sergeant's
+young widow, with an air of deference such as he would hardly have
+bestowed upon a queen.
+
+Then he came back to Lady Ingleby. His train left in three-quarters of an
+hour. But his task here was not finished. She had slept; but before he
+dare leave her, she must weep.
+
+"Where is Peter?" inquired the excited voice from the bed. "He always
+barks to be let out, in the morning; but I have heard nothing of him
+yet."
+
+"He was exhausted last night, poor little chap," said the doctor. "He
+could scarcely walk. I carried him up, myself; and put him on the bed in
+the next room. The coat was still there, I wrapped him in it. He licked
+my hand, and lay down, content."
+
+"I want to see him," said Lady Ingleby. "Michael loved him. He seems all
+I have left of Michael."
+
+"I will fetch him," said the doctor.
+
+He went into the adjoining room, leaving the door ajar. Myra heard him
+reach the bed. Then followed a long silence.
+
+"What is it?" she called at last. "Is he not there? Why are you so
+long?"
+
+Then the doctor came back. He carried something in his arms, wrapped in
+the old shooting jacket.
+
+"Dear Lady Ingleby," he said, "little Peter is dead. He must have died
+during the night, in his sleep. He was lying just as I left him, curled
+up in the coat; but he is quite cold and stiff. Faithful little heart!"
+said the doctor, with emotion, holding his burden, tenderly.
+
+"What!" cried Myra, with both arms outstretched. "Peter has died, because
+Michael is dead; and I--I have not even shed a tear!" She fell back among
+the pillows in a paroxysm of weeping.
+
+The doctor stood by, silently; uncertain what to do. Myra's sobs grew
+more violent, shaking the bed with their convulsive force. Then she began
+to shriek inarticulately about Michael and Peter, and to sob again, with
+renewed violence.
+
+At that moment the doctor heard the horn of a motor-car in the avenue;
+then, almost immediately, the clang of the bell, and the sounds of an
+arrival below. A look of immense relief came into his face. He went to
+the top of the great staircase, and looked over.
+
+The Honourable Mrs. Dalmain had arrived. The doctor saw her tall figure,
+in a dark green travelling coat, walk rapidly across the hall.
+
+"Jane!" he said. "Jeanette! Ah, I knew you would not fail us! Come
+straight up. You have arrived at the right moment."
+
+Jane looked up, and saw the doctor standing at the top of the stairs;
+something wrapped in an old coat, held carefully in his arms. She threw
+him one smile of greeting and assurance; then, wasting no time in words,
+rapidly pulled off her coat, hat, and fur gloves, flinging them in quick
+succession to the astonished butler. The doctor only waited to see her
+actually mounting the stairs. Then, passing through Lady Ingleby's room,
+he laid Peter's little body back on his dead master's bed, still wrapped
+in the old tweed coat.
+
+As he stepped back into Lady Ingleby's room, closing the door between, he
+saw Jane Dalmain kneel down beside the bed, and gather the weeping form
+into her arms, with a gesture of immense protective tenderness.
+
+"Oh Jane," sobbed Lady Ingleby, as she hid her face in the sweet comfort
+of that generous bosom; "Oh Jane! Michael has been killed! And little
+Peter died, because Michael was dead. Little Peter _died_, and _I_ had
+not even shed a tear!"
+
+The doctor passed quickly out, closing the door behind him. He did not
+wait to hear the answer. He knew it would be wise, and kind, and right.
+He left his patient in safe hands. Jane was there, at last. All would be
+well.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+LADY INGLEBY'S REST-CURE
+
+
+From the moment when the express for Cornwall had slowly but irrevocably
+commenced to glide away from the Paddington platform; when she had looked
+her last upon Margaret O'Mara's anxious devoted face, softly framed in
+her simple widow's bonnet; when she had realised that her somewhat
+original rest-cure had really safely commenced, and that she was leaving,
+not only her worries, but her very identity behind her--Lady Ingleby had
+leaned back with closed eyes in a corner of her reserved compartment, and
+given herself up to quiet retrospection.
+
+The face, in repose, was sad--a quiet sadness, as of regret which held no
+bitterness. The cheek, upon which the dark fringe of lashes rested, was
+white and thin having lost the tint and contour of perfect health. But,
+every now and then, during those hours of retrospection, the wistful
+droop of the sweet expressive mouth curved into a smile, and a dimple
+peeped out unexpectedly, giving a look of youthfulness to the tired
+face.
+
+When London and, its suburbs were completely left behind, and the summer
+sunshine blazed through the window from the clear blue of a radiant June
+sky, Lady Ingleby leaned forward, watching the rapid unfolding of country
+lanes and hedges; wide commons, golden with gorse; fir woods, carpeted
+with blue-bells; mossy banks, overhung with wild roses, honeysuckle, and
+traveller's-joy; the indescribable greenness and soft fragrance of
+England in early summer; and, as she watched, a responsive light shone in
+her sweet grey eyes. The drear sadness of autumn, the deadness of winter,
+the chill uncertainty of spring--all these were over and gone. "Flowers
+appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come," murmurs
+the lover of Canticles; and in Myra Ingleby's sad heart there blossomed
+timidly, flowers of hope; vague promise of future joy, which life might
+yet hold in store. A blackbird in the hawthorn, trilled gaily; and Myra
+softly sang, to an air of Garth Dalmain's, the "Blackbird's Song."
+
+               "Wake, wake,
+               Sad heart!
+               Rise up, and sing!
+               On God's fair earth, 'mid blossoms blue.
+               Fresh hope must ever spring.
+               There is no room for sad despair,
+               When heaven's love is everywhere."
+
+Then, as the train sped onward through Wiltshire, Somerset, and Devon,
+Lady Ingleby felt the mantle of her despondence slipping from her, and
+reviewed the past, much as a prisoner might glance back into his dark
+narrow cell, from the sunlight of the open door, as he stood at last on
+the threshold of liberty.
+
+Seven months had gone by since, on that chill November evening, the news
+of Lord Ingleby's death had reached Shenstone. The happenings of the
+weeks which followed, now seemed vague and dreamlike to Myra, just a few
+events standing out clearly from the dim blur of misery. She remembered
+the reliable strength of the doctor; the unselfish devotion of Margaret
+O'Mara; the unspeakable comfort of Jane's wholesome understanding
+tenderness. Then the dreaded arrival of her mother; followed,
+immediately, according to promise, by the protective advent of Georgina,
+Duchess of Meldrum; after which, tragedy and comedy walked hand in hand;
+and the silence of mourning was enlivened by the "Hoity-toity!" of the
+duchess, and the indignant sniffs of Mrs. Coller-Cray.
+
+Later on, details of Lord Ingleby's death came to hand, and his widow had
+to learn that he had fallen--at the attempt upon Targai, it is true--but
+the victim of an accident; losing his life, not at the hands of the
+savage enemy, but through the unfortunate blunder of a comrade. Myra
+never very clearly grasped the details:--a wall to be undermined; his own
+patent and fearful explosive; the grim enthusiasm with which he insisted
+upon placing it himself, arranging to have it fired by his patent
+electrical plan. Then the mistaking of a signal; the fatal pressing of a
+button five minutes too soon; an electric flash in the mine, a terrific
+explosion, and instant death to the man whose skill and courage had made
+the gap through which crowds of cheering British soldiers, bursting from
+the silent darkness, dashed to expectant victory.
+
+When full details reached the War Office, a Very Great Personage called
+at her house in Park Lane personally to explain to Lady Ingleby the
+necessity for the hushing up of some of these greatly-to-be-deplored
+facts. The whole unfortunate occurrence had largely partaken of the
+nature of an experiment. The explosive, the new method of signalling, the
+portable electric plant--all these were being used by Lord Ingleby and
+the young officers who assisted him, more or less experimentally and
+unofficially. The man whose unfortunate mistake caused the accident had
+an important career before him. His name must not be allowed to
+transpire. It would be unfair that a future of great promise should be
+blighted by what was an obvious accident. The few to whom the name was
+known had been immediately pledged to secrecy. Of course it would be
+confidentially given to Lady Ingleby if she really desired to hear it,
+but----
+
+Then Myra took a very characteristic line. She sat up with instant
+decision; her pale face flushed, and her large pathetic grey eyes shone
+with sudden brightness.
+
+"Pardon me, sir," she said, "for interposing; but I never wish to know
+that name. My husband would have been the first to desire that it should
+not be told. And, personally, I should be sorry that there should be any
+man on earth whose hand I could not bring myself to touch in friendship.
+The hand that widowed me, did so without intention. Let it remain always
+to me an abstract instrument of the will of Providence. I shall never
+even try to guess to which of Michael's comrades that hand belonged."
+
+Lady Ingleby was honest in making this decision; and the Very Great
+Personage stepped into his brougham, five minutes later, greatly
+relieved, and filled with admiration for Lord Ingleby's beautiful and
+right-minded widow. She had always been all that was most charming. Now
+she added sound good sense, to personal charm. Excellent! Incomparable!
+Poor Ingleby! Poor--Ah! _he_ must not be mentioned, even in thought.
+
+Yes; Lady Ingleby was absolutely honest in coming to her decision. And
+yet, from that moment, two names revolved perpetually in her mind, around
+a ceaseless question--the only men mentioned constantly by Michael in his
+letters as being always with him in his experiments, sharing his
+interests and his dangers: Ronald Ingram, and Billy Cathcart--dear boys,
+both; her devoted adorers; almost her dearest, closest friends; faithful,
+trusted, tried. And now the haunting question circled around all thought
+of them: "Was it Ronald? Or was it Billy? Which? Billy or Ronnie? Ronnie
+or Billy?" Myra had said: "I shall never even try to guess," and she had
+said it honestly. She did not try to guess. She guessed, in spite of
+trying not to do so; and the certainty, and yet _un_certainty of her
+surmisings told on her nerves, becoming a cause of mental torment which
+was with her, subconsciously, night and day.
+
+Time went on. The frontier war was over. England, as ever, had been bound
+to win in the end; and England had won. It had merely been a case of
+time; of learning wisdom by a series of initial mistakes; of expending a
+large amount of British gold and British blood. England's supremacy was
+satisfactorily asserted; and, those of her brave troops who had survived
+the initial mistakes, came home; among them Ronald Ingram and Billy
+Cathcart; the former obviously older than when he went away, gaunt and
+worn, pale beneath his bronze, showing unmistakable signs of the effects
+of a severe wound and subsequent fever. "Too interesting for words," said
+the Duchess of Meldrum to Lady Ingleby, recounting her first sight of
+him. "If only I were fifty years younger than I am, I would marry the
+dear boy immediately, take him down to Overdene, and nurse him back to
+health and strength. Oh, you need not look incredulous, my dear Myra! I
+always mean what I say, as you very well know."
+
+But Lady Ingleby denied all suspicion of incredulity, and merely
+suggested languidly, that--bar the matrimonial suggestion--the programme
+was an excellent one, and might well be carried out. Young Ronald being
+of the same opinion, he was soon installed at Overdene, and had what he
+afterwards described as _the_ time of his life, being pampered, spoiled,
+and petted by the dear old duchess, and never allowing her to suspect
+that one of the chief attractions of Overdene lay in the fact that it was
+within easy motoring distance of Shenstone Park.
+
+Billy returned as young, as inconsequent, as irrepressible as ever. And
+yet in him also, Myra was conscious of a subtle change, for which she,
+all too readily, found a reason, far removed from the real one.
+
+The fact was this. Both young men, in their romantic devotion to her, had
+yet been true to their own manhood, and loyal, at heart, to Lord Ingleby.
+But their loyalty had always been with effort. Therefore, when--the
+strain relaxed--they met her again, they were intensely conscious of her
+freedom and of their own resultant liberty. This produced in them, when
+with her, a restraint and shyness which Myra naturally construed into a
+confirmation of her own suspicions. She, having never found it the
+smallest effort to remember she was Michael's, and to be faithful in
+every thought to him, was quite unconscious of her liberty. There having
+been no strain in remaining true to the instincts of her own pure,
+honest, honourable nature, there was no tension to relax.
+
+So it very naturally came to pass that when one day Ronald Ingram had sat
+long with her, silently studying his boots, his strong face tense and
+miserable, every now and then looking furtively at her, then, as his eyes
+met the calm friendliness of hers, dropping them again to the
+floor:--"Poor Ronnie," she mused, "with his 'important career' before
+him. Undoubtedly it was he who did it. And Billy knows it. See how
+fidgety Billy is, while Ronnie sits with me."
+
+But by-and-by it would be: "No; of course it was Billy--dear hot-headed
+impulsive young Billy; and Ronald, knowing it, feels guilty also. Poor
+little Billy, who was as a son to Michael! There was no mistaking the
+emotion in his face just now, when I merely laid my hand on his. Oh,
+impetuous scatter-brained boy!... Dear heavens! I wish he wouldn't hand
+me the bread-and-butter."
+
+Then, into this atmosphere of misunderstanding and uncertainty, intruded
+a fresh element. A first-cousin of Lord Ingleby's, to whom had come the
+title, minus the estates, came to the conclusion that title and estates
+might as well go together. To that end, intruding upon her privacy on
+every possible occasion, he proceeded to pay business-like court to Lady
+Ingleby.
+
+Thus rudely Myra awoke to the understanding of her liberty. At once, her
+whole outlook on life was changed. All things bore a new significance.
+Ronnie and Billy ceased to be comforts. Ronnie's nervous misery assumed a
+new importance; and, coupled with her own suspicions, filled her with a
+dismayed horror. The duchess's veiled jokes took point, and hurt. A sense
+of unprotected loneliness engulfed her. Every man became a prospective
+and dreaded suitor; every woman's remarks seemed to hold an innuendo. Her
+name in the papers distracted her.
+
+She recognised the morbidness of her condition, even while she felt
+unable to cope with it; and, leaving Shenstone suddenly, came up to town,
+and consulted Sir Deryck Brand.
+
+"Oh, my friend," she said, "help me! I shall never face life again."
+
+The doctor heard her patiently, aiding the recital by his strong
+understanding silence.
+
+Then he said, quietly: "Dear lady, the diagnosis is not difficult. Also
+there is but one possible remedy." He paused.
+
+Lady Ingleby's imploring eyes and tense expectancy, besought his
+verdict.
+
+"A rest-cure," said the doctor, with finality.
+
+"Horrors, no!" cried Myra; "Would you shut me up within four walls; cram
+me with rice pudding and every form of food I most detest; send a
+dreadful woman to pound, roll, and pommel me, and tell me gruesome
+stories; keep out all my friends, all letters, all books, all news; and,
+after six weeks send me out into the world again, with my figure gone,
+and not a sane thought upon any subject under the sun? Dear doctor, think
+of it! Stout, and an idiot! Oh, give me something in a bottle, to shake,
+and take three times a day--and let me go!"
+
+The doctor smiled. He was famed for his calm patience.
+
+"Your somewhat highly coloured description, dear Lady Ingleby, applies to
+a form of rest-cure such as I rarely, if ever, recommend. In your case it
+would be worse than useless. We should gain nothing by shutting you up
+with the one person who is doing you harm, and from whom we must contrive
+your escape."
+
+"The one person--?" queried Myra, wide-eyed.
+
+"A charming person," smiled the doctor, "where the rest of mankind are
+concerned; but very bad for you just now."
+
+"But--whom?" questioned Myra, again. "Whom can you mean?"
+
+"I mean Lady Ingleby," replied the doctor, gravely. "When I send you away
+for your rest-cure, Lady Ingleby with her worries and questionings,
+doubts and fears, must be left behind. I shall send you to a little
+out-of-the-world village on the wild sea coast of Cornwall, where you
+know nobody, and nobody knows you. You must go incognito, as 'Miss' or
+'Mrs.'--anything you please. Your rest-cure will consist primarily in
+being set free, for a time, from Lady Ingleby's position, predicament,
+and perplexities. You must send word to all intimate friends, telling
+them you are going into retreat, and they must not write until they hear
+again. You will have leave to write one letter a week, to one person
+only; and that person must be one of whom I can approve. You must eat
+plenty of wholesome food; roam about all day long in the open-air; rise
+early, retire early; live entirely in a simple, beautiful, wholesome
+present, firmly avoiding all remembrance of a sad past, and all
+anticipation of an uncertain future. Nobody is to know where you are,
+excepting myself, and the one friend to whom you may write. But we will
+arrange that somebody--say, for instance, your devoted attendant from the
+Lodge, shall hold herself free to come to you at an hour's notice, should
+you be overwhelmed with a sudden sense of loneliness. The knowledge of
+this, will probably keep the need from arising. You can communicate with
+me daily if you like, by letter or by telegram; but other people must not
+know where you are. I do not wish you followed by the anxious or restless
+thoughts of many minds. To-morrow I will give you the name of a place I
+recommend, and of a comfortable hotel where you can order rooms. It must
+be a place you have never seen, probably one of which you have never
+heard. We are nearing the end of May. I should like you to start on the
+first of June. If you want a house-party at Shenstone this summer, you
+may invite your guests for the first of July. Lady Ingleby will be at
+home again by then, fully able to maintain her reputation as a hostess of
+unequalled charm, graciousness, and popularity. Morbid self-consciousness
+is a condition of mind from which you have hitherto been so completely
+free, that this unexpected attack has altogether unnerved you, and
+requires prompt and uncompromising measures.... Yes, Jane Dalmain may be
+your correspondent. You could not have chosen better."
+
+This was the doctor's verdict and prescription; and, as his patients
+never disputed the one, or declined to take the other, Myra found
+herself, on "the glorious first of June" flying south in the Great
+Western express, bound for the little fishing village of Tregarth where
+she had ordered rooms at the Moorhead Inn, in the name of Mrs. O'Mara.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+AT THE MOORHEAD INN
+
+
+The ruddy glow of a crimson sunset illumined cliff and hamlet, tinting
+the distant ocean into every shade of golden glory, as Myra walked up the
+gravelled path to the rustic porch of the Moorhead Inn, and looked around
+her with a growing sense of excited refreshment.
+
+She had come on foot from the little wayside station, her luggage
+following in a barrow; and this mode of progression, minus a footman and
+maid, and carrying her own cloak, umbrella, and travelling-bag, was in
+itself a charming novelty.
+
+At the door, she was received by the proprietress, a stately lady in
+black satin, wearing a double row of large jet beads, who reminded her
+instantly of all Lord Ingleby's maiden aunts. She seemed an accentuated,
+dignified, concentrated embodiment of them all; and Myra longed for
+Billy, to share the joke.
+
+"Aunt Ingleby" requested Mrs. O'Mara to walk in, and hoped she had had a
+pleasant journey. Then she rang a very loud bell twice, in order to
+summon a maid to show her to her room; and, the maid not appearing at
+once, requested Mrs. O'Mara meanwhile to write her name in the visitors'
+book.
+
+Lady Ingleby walked into the hall, passing a smoking-room on the left,
+and, noting a door, with "Coffee Room" upon it in gold lettering, down a
+short passage immediately opposite. Up from the centre of the hall, on
+her right, went the rather wide old-fashioned staircase; and opposite to
+it, against the wall, between the smoking-room and a door labelled
+"Reception Room," stood a marble-topped table. Lying open upon this table
+was a ponderous visitors' book. A fresh page had been recently commenced,
+as yet only containing four names. The first three were dated May the
+8th, and read, in crabbed precise writing:
+
+  Miss Amelia Murgatroyd, Miss Eliza Murgatroyd, Miss Susannah
+  Murgatroyd ..... Lawn View, Putney.
+
+Below these, bearing date a week later, in small precise writing of
+unmistakable character and clearness, the name:
+
+  Jim Airth ..... London.
+
+Pen and ink lay ready, and, without troubling to remove her glove, Lady
+Ingleby wrote beneath, in large, somewhat sprawling, handwriting:
+
+  Mrs. O'Mara ..... The Lodge, Shenstone.
+
+A maid appeared, took her cloak and bag, and preceded her up the stairs.
+
+As she reached the turn of the staircase, Lady Ingleby paused, and looked
+back into the hall.
+
+The door of the smoking-room opened, and a very tall man came out, taking
+a pipe from the pocket of his loose Norfolk jacket. As he strolled into
+the hall, his face reminded her of Ronnie's, deep-bronzed and thin; only
+it was an older face--strong, rugged, purposeful. The heavy brown
+moustache could not hide the massive cut of chin and jaw.
+
+Catching sight of a fresh name in the book, he paused; then laying one
+large hand upon the table, bent over and read it.
+
+Myra stood still and watched, noting the broad shoulders, and the immense
+length of limb in the leather leggings.
+
+He appeared to study the open page longer than was necessary for the mere
+reading of the name. Then, without looking round, reached up, took a cap
+from the antler of a stag's head high up on the wall, stuck it on the
+back of his head; swung round, and went out through the porch, whistling
+like a blackbird.
+
+"Jim Airth," said Myra to herself, as she moved slowly on; "Jim Airth of
+_London_. What an address! He might just as well have put: 'of the
+world!' A cross between a guardsman and a cowboy; and very likely he will
+turn out to be a commercial-traveller." Then, as she reached the landing
+and came in sight of the rosy-cheeked maid, holding open the door of a
+large airy bedroom, she added with a whimsical smile: "All the same, I
+wish I had taken the trouble to write more neatly."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+MRS. O'MARA'S CORRESPONDENCE
+
+
+_Letter from Lady Ingleby to the Honourable Mrs. Dalmain._
+
+                                                     The Moorhead Inn,
+                                                   Tregarth, Cornwall.
+
+MY DEAR JANE,
+
+Having been here a week, I think it is time I commenced my first letter
+to you.
+
+How does it feel to be a person considered pre-eminently suitable to
+minister to a mind diseased? Doesn't it give you a sense of being, as it
+were, rice pudding, or Brand's essence, or Maltine; something essentially
+safe and wholesome? You should have heard how Sir Deryck jumped at you,
+as soon as your name was mentioned, tentatively, as my possible
+correspondent. I had barely whispered it, when he leapt, and clinched the
+matter. I believe "wholesome" was an adjective mentioned. I hope you do
+not mind, dear Jane. I must confess, I would sooner be macaroons or
+oyster-patties, even at the risk of giving my friends occasional
+indigestion. But then I have never gone in for the role of being helpful,
+in which you excel. Not that it is a "role" with you, dear Jane. Rather,
+it is an essential characteristic. You walk in, and find a hopeless
+tangle; gather up the threads in those firm capable hands; deftly sort
+and hold them; and, lo, the tangle is over; the skein of life is once
+more ready for winding!
+
+Well, there is not much tangle about me just now, thanks to our dear
+doctor's most excellent prescription. It was a veritable stroke of
+genius, this setting me free from myself. From the first day, the sense
+of emancipation was indescribable. I enjoy being addressed as "Ma'am"; I
+revel in being without a maid, though it takes me ages to do my hair, and
+I have serious thoughts of wearing it in pigtails down my back! When I
+remember the poor, harassed, exhausted, society-self I left behind, I
+feel like buying a wooden spade and bucket and starting out, all by
+myself, to build sand-castles on this delightful shore. I have no one to
+play with, for I am certain the Miss Murgatroyds--I am going to tell you
+of them--never made sand-castles; no, not even in their infancy, a
+century ago! They must always have been the sort of children who wore
+white frilled bloomers, poplin frocks, and large leghorn hats with
+ribbons tied beneath their excellent little chins, and walked demurely
+with their governess--looking shocked at other infants who whooped and
+ran. I feel inclined to whoop and run, now; and the Miss Murgatroyds are
+quite prepared to look shocked.
+
+But oh, the freedom of being nobody, and of having nothing to think of or
+do! And everything I see and hear gives me joy; a lark rising from the
+turf, and carolling its little self up into the blue; the great Atlantic
+breakers, pounding upon the shore; the fisher-folk, standing at the doors
+of their picturesque thatched cottages. All things seem alive, with an
+exuberance of living, to which I have long been a stranger.
+
+Do you know this coast, with its high moorland, its splendid cliffs; and,
+far below, its sand coves, and ever-moving, rolling, surging, deep green
+sea? Wonderful! Beautiful! Infinite!
+
+My Inn is charming; primitive, yet comfortable. We have excellent coffee,
+fried fish in perfection; real nursery toast, farm butter, and home-made
+bread. When you supplement these with marmalade and mulberry jam, other
+things all cease to be necessities.
+
+Stray travellers come and go in motors, merely lunching, or putting up
+for one night; but there are only four other permanent guests. These all
+furnish me with unceasing interest and amusement. The three Miss
+Murgatroyds--oh, Jane, they are so antediluvian and quaint! Three ancient
+sisters,--by name, Amelia, Eliza, and Susannah. Their villa at Putney
+rejoices in the name of "Lawn View"; so characteristic and suitable;
+because no view reaching beyond the limits of their own front lawn
+appears to these dear ladies to be worthy of regard. They never go
+abroad, "excepting to the Isle of Wight," because they "do not like
+foreigners." A party of quite charming Americans arrived just before
+dinner the other day, in an automobile, and kept us lively during their
+flying visit. They were cordial over the consomme; friendly over the
+fish; and quite confidential by the time we reached the third course.
+But, alas, these delightful cousins from the other side, were considered
+"foreigners" by the Miss Murgatroyds, who consequently encased themselves
+in the frigid armour of their own self-conscious primness; and passed the
+mustard, without a smile. I felt constrained, afterwards, to apologise
+for my country-women; but the Americans, overflowing with appreciative
+good-nature, explained that they had come over expressly in order to see
+old British relics of every kind. They asked me whether I did not think
+the Miss Murgatroyds might have stepped "right out of Dickens." I was
+fairly nonplussed, because I thought they were going to say "out of the
+ark"--you know how one mentally finishes a sentence as soon as it is
+begun?--and I simply dared not confess that I have not read Dickens!
+Alas, how ignorant of our own standard literature we are apt to feel when
+we talk with Americans, and find it completely a part of their everyday
+life.
+
+But I must tell you more about the Miss Murgatroyds--Amelia, Eliza, and
+Susannah. When quite at peace among themselves, which is not often, they
+are Milly, Lizzie, and Susie; but a little rift within the lute is marked
+by the immediate use of their full baptismal names. Poor Susannah being
+the youngest--the youthful side of sixty--and inclined to be kittenish
+and giddy, is very rarely "Susie." Miss Murgatroyd--Amelia--is stern and
+unbending. She wears a cameo brooch the size of a tablespoon, and lays
+down the law in precise and elegant English, even when asking Susie to
+pass the crumpets. Miss Eliza, the second sister, is meek and
+unoffending. Her attitude toward Miss Amelia is one of perpetual apology.
+She addresses Susie as "my dear love," excepting on occasions when
+Susie's behaviour has put her quite outside the pale. Then she calls her,
+"my _dear_ Susannah!" and sighs. I am inclined to think Miss Eliza
+suffers from a demonstrative nature, which has never had an outlet.
+
+But Susie is the lively one. Susie would be a flirt, if she dared, and if
+any man were bold enough to flirt with her under Miss Amelia's eye. Susie
+is barely fifty-five, and her elder sisters regard her as a mere child,
+and are very ready with reproof and correction. Susie has a pink and
+white complexion, a soft fat little face, and plump dimpled hands; and
+Susie is given to vanity. Jim Airth held open the door of the coffee-room
+for her one day, and Susie--I should say Susannah--has been in a flutter
+ever since. Poor naughty Susie! Miss Murgatroyd has changed her place at
+meals--they have a table in the centre of the room--and made her sit with
+her back to Jim Airth; who has a round table, all to himself, in the
+window.
+
+Now I must tell you about Jim Airth, and of a curious coincidence
+connected with him, which you must not repeat to the doctor, for fear he
+should move me on.
+
+Let me confess at once, that I am extremely interested in Jim Airth--and
+it is sweet and generous of me to admit it, for Jim Airth is not in the
+least interested in me! He rarely vouchsafes me a word or a glance. He is
+a bear, and a savage; but such a fine good-looking bear; and such a
+splendid and interesting savage! He is quite the tallest man I ever saw;
+with immense limbs, lean and big-boned; yet moves with the supple grace
+of an Indian. He was through that campaign last year, and had a terrible
+turn of sunstroke and fever, during which his head was shaved.
+Consequently his thick brown hair is now at the stage of standing
+straight up all over it like a bottle-brush. I know Susie longs to smooth
+it down; but that would be a task beyond Susie's utmost efforts. His
+brows are very stern and level; and his eyes, deep-set beneath them, of
+that gentian blue which makes one think of Alpine heights. They can flash
+and gleam, on occasions, and sometimes look almost purple. He wears a
+heavy brown moustache, and his jaw and chin are terrifying in their
+masterful strength. Yet he smokes an old briar pipe; whistles like a
+blackbird; and derives immense amusement from playing up to naughty
+Susie's coyness, when the cameo brooch is turned another way. I have seen
+his eyes twinkle with fun when Miss Susannah has purposely let fall her
+handkerchief, and he has reached out a long arm, picked it up, and
+restored it. Whereupon Susie has hastened out, in the wake of her
+sisters, in a blushing flutter; Miss Eliza turning to whisper: "Oh, my
+dear love! Oh Susannah!" I try, when these things happen, to catch Jim
+Airth's merry eye, and share the humour of the situation; but he stolidly
+sees the wall through me on all occasions, and would tread heavily on
+_my_ poor handkerchief, if I took to dropping it. Miss Murgatroyd tells
+me that he is a confirmed hater of feminine beauty; upon which poor Miss
+Susannah takes a surreptitious prink into the gold-framed mirror over the
+reception-room mantelpiece, and says, plaintively: "Oh, do not say that,
+Amelia!" But Amelia _does_ say "that"; and a good deal more!
+
+When first I saw Jim Airth, I thought him a cross between a cowboy and a
+guardsman; and I think so still. But what do you suppose he turns out to
+be, beside? An author! And, stranger still, he is writing an important
+book called _Modern Warfare; its Methods and Requirements_, in which he
+is explaining and working out many of Michael's ideas and experiments. He
+was right through that border war, and took part in the assault on
+Targai. He must have known Michael, intimately.
+
+All this information I have from Miss Murgatroyd. I sometimes sit with
+them in the reception-room after dinner, where they wind wool and
+knit--endless winding; perpetual knitting! At five minutes to ten, Miss
+Murgatroyd says; "Now, my dear Eliza. Now, Susannah," which is the signal
+for bestowing all their goods and chattels into black satin work-bags.
+Then, at ten o'clock precisely, Miss Murgatroyd rises, and they
+procession up to bed--ah, no! I beg their pardons. The Miss Murgatroyds
+never "go to bed." They all "retire to rest."
+
+Jim Airth and his doings form a favourite topic of conversation. They
+speak of him as "Mr. Airth," which sounds so funny. He is not the sort of
+person one ever could call "Mister." To me, he has been "Jim Airth," ever
+since I saw his name, in small neat writing, in the visitors' book. I had
+to put mine just beneath it, and of course I wrote "Mrs. O'Mara"; then,
+as an address seemed expected, added: "The Lodge, Shenstone." Just after
+I had written this, Jim Airth came into the hall, and stood quite still
+studying it. I saw him, from half-way up the stairs. At first I thought
+he was marvelling at my shocking handwriting; but now I believe the name
+"Shenstone" caught his eye. No doubt he knew it to be Michael's
+family-seat.
+
+Do you know, it was so strange, the other night, Miss Murgatroyd held
+forth in the reception-room about Michael's death. She explained that he
+was "the first to dash into the breach," and "fell with his face to the
+foe." She also added that she used to know "poor dear Lady Ingleby,"
+intimately. This was interesting, and seemed worthy of further inquiry.
+It turned out that she is a distant cousin of a weird old person who used
+to call every year on mamma, for a subscription to some society for
+promoting thrift among the inhabitants of the South Sea Islands. Dear
+mamma used annually to jump upon this courageous old party and flatten
+her out; and listening to the process was, to us, a fearful joy; but
+annually she returned to the charge. On one of these occasions, just
+before my marriage, Miss Murgatroyd accompanied her. Hence her intimate
+knowledge of "poor dear Lady Ingleby." Also she has a friend who, quite
+recently, saw Lady Ingleby driving in the Park; "and, poor thing, she had
+sadly gone off in looks." I felt inclined to prink in the golden mirror,
+after the manner of Susie, and exclaim: "Oh, do not say that, Amelia!"
+
+Isn't it queer the way in which such people as these worthy ladies, yearn
+to be able to say they know us; for really, when all is said and done,
+we are not very much worth knowing? I would rather know a cosmopolitan
+cowboy, such as Jim Airth, than half the titled folk on my visiting-list.
+
+But really, Jane, I must not mention him again, or you will think I am
+infected with Susie's flutter. Not so, my dear! He has shown me no little
+courtesies; given few signs of being conscious of my presence; barely
+returned my morning greeting, though my lonely table is just opposite
+his, in the large bay-window.
+
+But in this new phase of life, everything seems of absorbing interest,
+and the individuality of the few people I see, takes on an exaggerated
+importance. (Really that sentence might almost be Sir Deryck's!) Also, I
+really believe Jim Airth's peculiar fascination consists in the fact that
+I am conscious of his disapproval. If he thinks of me at all, it is not
+with admiration, nor even with liking. And this is a novel experience;
+for I have been spoilt by perpetual approval, and satiated by senseless
+and unmerited adulation.
+
+Oh Jane! As I walk along these cliffs, and hear the Atlantic breakers
+pounding against their base, far down below; as I watch the sea-gulls
+circling around on their strong white wings; as I realise the strength,
+the force, the liberty, in nature; the growth and progress which
+accompanies life; I feel I have never really lived. Nothing has ever felt
+_strong_, either beneath me, or around me, or against me. Had I once been
+mastered, and held, and made to do as another willed, I should have felt
+love was a reality, and life would have become worth living. But I have
+just dawdled through the years, doing exactly as I pleased; making
+mistakes, and nobody troubling to set me right; failing, and nobody
+disappointed that I had not succeeded.
+
+I realise now, that there is a key to life, and a key to love, which has
+never been placed in my hands. What it is, I know not. But if I ever
+learn, it will be from just such a man as Jim Airth. I have never really
+talked with him, yet I am so conscious of his strength and virility, that
+he stands to me, in the abstract, for all that is strongest in manhood,
+and most vital in life.
+
+Much of the benefit of my time here, quite unconsciously to himself,
+comes to me from him. When he walks into the house, whistling like a
+blackbird; when he hangs up his cap on an antler a foot or two higher
+than other people could reach; when he ploughs unhesitatingly through his
+meals, with a book or a paper stuck up in front of him; when he dumps his
+big boots out into the passage, long after the quiet house has hushed
+into repose, and I smile, in the darkness, at the thought of how the
+sound will have annoyed Miss Murgatroyd, startled Miss Eliza, and made
+naughty Miss Susannah's heart flutter;--when all these things happen
+every day, I am conscious that a clearer understanding of the past, a new
+strength for the future, and a fresh outlook on life, come to me, simply
+from the fact that he is himself, and that he is here. Jim Airth may not
+be a saint; but he is a _man!_
+
+Dear Jane, I should scarcely venture to send you this epistle, were it
+not for all the adjectives--"wholesome," "helpful," "understanding,"
+etc., which so rightly apply to you. _You_ will not misunderstand. Of
+that I have no fear. But do not tell the doctor more than that I am very
+well, in excellent spirits, and happier than I have ever been in my
+life.
+
+Tell Garth I loved his last song. How often I sing to myself, as I walk
+in the sea breeze and sunshine, the hairbells waving round my feet:
+
+              "On God's fair earth, 'mid blossoms blue,
+              Fresh hope must ever spring."
+
+I trust I sing it in tune; but I know I have not much ear.
+
+And how is your little Geoffrey? Has he the beautiful shining eyes, we
+all remember? I have often laughed over your account of his sojourn at
+Overdene, and of how our dear naughty old duchess stirred him up to rebel
+against his nurse. You must have had your hands full when you and Garth
+returned from America. Oh, Jane, how different my life would have been if
+I had had a little son! Ah, well!
+
+                  "There is no room for sad despair,
+                  When heaven's love is everywhere."
+
+Tell Garth, I love it; but I wish he wrote simpler accompaniments. That
+one beats me!
+
+                                           Yours, dear Jane,
+                                    Gratefully and affectionately,
+                                                         MYRA INGLEBY.
+
+                         --------------------
+
+_Letter from the Honourable Mrs. Dalmain to Lady Ingleby._
+
+                                                CASTLE GLENEESH, N. B.
+
+MY DEAR MYRA,
+
+No, I have not the smallest objection to representing rice pudding, or
+anything else plain and wholesome, providing I agree with you, and
+suffice for the need of the moment.
+
+I am indeed glad to have so good a report. It proves Deryck right in his
+diagnosis and prescription. Keep to the latter faithfully, in every
+detail.
+
+I am much interested in your account of your fellow-guests at the
+Moorhead Inn. No, I do not misunderstand your letter; nor do I credit you
+with any foolish sentimentality, or Susie-like flutterings. Jim Airth
+stands to you for an abstract thing--uncompromising manhood, in its
+strength and assurance; very attractive after the loneliness and sense of
+being cut adrift, which have been your portion lately. Only,
+remember--where living men and women are concerned, the safely abstract
+is apt suddenly to become the perilously personal; and your future
+happiness may be seriously involved, before you realise the danger. I
+confess, I fail to understand the man's avoidance of you. He sounds the
+sort of fellow who would be friendly and pleasant toward all women, and
+passionately loyal to one. Perhaps you, with your sweet loveliness--a
+fact, my dear, notwithstanding the observations in the Park, of Miss
+Amelia's crony!--may remind him of some long-closed page of past history,
+and he may shrink from the pain of a consequent turning of memory's
+leaves. No doubt Miss Susannah recalls some nice old maiden-aunt, and he
+can afford to respond to her blandishments.
+
+What you say of the way in which Americans know our standard authors,
+reminds me of a fellow-passenger on board the _Baltic_, on our outward
+voyage--a charming woman, from Hartford, Connecticut, who sat beside us
+at meals. She had been spending five months in Europe, travelling
+incessantly, and finished up with London--her first visit to our
+capital--expecting to be altogether too tired to enjoy it; but found it a
+place of such abounding interest and delight, that life went on with
+fresh zest, and fatigue was forgotten. "Every street," she explained, "is
+so familiar. We have never seen them before, and yet they are more
+familiar than the streets of our native cities. It is the London of
+Dickens and of Thackeray. We know it all. We recognise the streets as we
+come to them. The places are homelike to us. _We have known them all our
+lives._" I enjoyed this tribute to our English literature. But I wonder,
+my dear Myra, how many streets, east of Temple Bar, in our dear old
+London, are "homelike" to you!
+
+Garth insists upon sending you at once a selection of his favourites from
+among the works of Dickens. So expect a bulky package before long. You
+might read them aloud to the Miss Murgatroyds, while they knit and wind
+wool.
+
+Garth thoroughly enjoyed our trip to America. You know why we went? Since
+he lost his sight, all sounds mean so much to him. He is so boyishly
+eager to hear all there is to be heard in the world. Any possibility of a
+new sound-experience fills him with enthusiastic expectation, and away we
+go! He set his heart upon hearing the thunderous roar of Niagara, so off
+we went, by the White Star Line. His enjoyment was complete, when at last
+he stood close to the Horseshoe Fall, on the Canadian side, with his hand
+on the rail at the place where the spray showers over you, and the great
+rushing boom seems all around. And as we stood there together, a little
+bird on a twig beside us, began to sing!--Garth is putting it all into a
+symphony.
+
+How true is what you say of the genial friendliness of Americans! I was
+thinking it over, on our homeward voyage. It seems to me, that, as a
+rule, they are so far less self-conscious than we. Their minds are fully
+at liberty to go out at once, in keenest appreciation and interest, to
+meet a new acquaintance. Our senseless British greeting: "How do you
+do?"--that everlasting question, which neither expects nor awaits an
+answer, _can_ only lead to trite remarks about the weather; whereas
+America's "I am happy to meet you, Mrs. Dalmain," or "I am pleased to
+make your acquaintance, Lady Ingleby," is an open door, through which we
+pass at once to fuller friendliness. Too often, in the moment of
+introduction, the reserved British nature turns in upon itself,
+sensitively debating what impression it is making; nervously afraid of
+being too expansive; fearful of giving itself away. But, as I said, the
+American mind comes forth to meet us with prompt interest and
+appreciative expectation; and we make more friends, in that land of ready
+sympathies, in half an hour, than we do in half a year of our own stiff
+social functions. Perhaps you will put me down as biassed in my opinion.
+Well, they were wondrous good to Garth and me; and we depend so greatly
+upon people _saying_ exactly the right thing at the right moment. When
+friendly looks cannot be seen, tactful words become more than ever a
+necessity.
+
+Yes, little Geoff's eyes are bright and shining, and the true golden
+brown. In many other ways he is very like his father.
+
+Garth sends his love, and promises you a special accompaniment to the
+"Blackbird's Song," such as can easily be played with one finger!
+
+It seems so strange to address this envelope to Mrs. O'Mara. It reminds
+me of a time when I dropped my own identity and used another woman's
+name. I only wish your experiment might end as happily as mine.
+
+Ah, Myra dearest, there is a Best for every life! Sometimes we can only
+reach it by a rocky path or along a thorny way; and those who fear the
+pain, come to it not at all. But such of us as have attained, can testify
+that it is worth while. From all you have told me lately, I gather the
+Best has not yet come your way. Keep on expecting. Do not be content with
+less.
+
+We certainly must not let Deryck know that Jim Airth--what a nice
+name--was at Targai. He would move you on, promptly.
+
+Report again next week; and do abide, if necessary, beneath the safe
+chaperonage of the cameo brooch.
+
+                                         Yours, in all fidelity,
+                                                         JANE DALMAIN.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+IN HORSESHOE COVE
+
+
+Lady Ingleby sat in the honeysuckle arbour, pouring her tea from a little
+brown earthenware teapot, and spreading substantial slices of home-made
+bread with the creamiest of farm butter, when the aged postman hobbled up
+to the garden gate of the Moorhead Inn, with a letter for Mrs. O'Mara.
+
+For a moment she could scarcely bring herself to open an envelope bearing
+another name than her own. Then, smiling at her momentary hesitation, she
+tore it open with the keen delight of one, who, accustomed to a dozen
+letters a day, has passed a week without receiving any.
+
+She read Mrs. Dalmain's letter through rapidly; and once she laughed
+aloud; and once a sudden colour flamed into her cheeks.
+
+Then she laid it down, and helped herself to honey--real heather-honey,
+golden in the comb.
+
+She took up her letter again, and read it carefully, weighing each word.
+
+Then:--"Good old Jane!" she said; "that is rather neatly put: the 'safely
+abstract' becoming the 'perilously personal.' She has acquired the knack
+of terse and forceful phraseology from her long friendship with the
+doctor. I can do it myself, when I try; only, _my_ Sir Derycky sentences
+are apt merely to sound well, and mean nothing at all. And--after
+all--_does_ this of Jane's mean anything worthy of consideration? Could
+six foot five of abstraction--eating its breakfast in complete
+unconsciousness of one's presence, returning one's timid 'good-morning'
+with perfunctory politeness, and relegating one, while still debating the
+possibility of venturing a remark on the weather, to obvious
+oblivion--ever become perilously personal?"
+
+Lady Ingleby laughed again, returned the letter to its envelope, and
+proceeded to cut herself a slice of home-made currant cake. As she
+finished it, with a final cup of tea, she thought with amusement of the
+difference between this substantial meal in the honeysuckle arbour of the
+old inn garden, and the fashionable teas then going on in crowded
+drawing-rooms in town, where people hurried in, took a tiny roll of thin
+bread-and-butter, and a sip at luke-warm tea, which had stood
+sufficiently long to leave an abiding taste of tannin; heard or imparted
+a few more or less detrimental facts concerning mutual friends; then
+hurried on elsewhere, to a cucumber sandwich, colder tea, which had stood
+even longer, and a fresh instalment of gossip.
+
+"Oh, why do we do it?" mused Lady Ingleby. Then, taking up her scarlet
+parasol, she crossed the little lawn, and stood at the garden gate, in
+the afternoon sunlight, debating in which direction she should go.
+
+Usually her walks took her along the top of the cliffs, where the larks,
+springing from the short turf and clumps of waving harebells, sang
+themselves up into the sky. She loved being high above the sea, and
+hearing the distant thunder of the breakers on the rocks below.
+
+But to-day the steep little street, down through the fishing village, to
+the cove, looked inviting. The tide was out, and the sands gleamed
+golden.
+
+Also, from her seat in the arbour, she had seen Jim Airth's tall figure
+go swinging along the cliff edge, silhouetted against the clear blue of
+the sky. And one sentence in the letter she had just received, made this
+into a factor which turned her feet toward the shore.
+
+The friendly Cornish folk, sitting on their doorsteps in the sunshine,
+smiled at the lovely woman in white serge, who passed down their village
+street, so tall and graceful, beneath the shade of her scarlet parasol.
+An item in the doctor's prescription had been the discarding of widow's
+weeds, and it had seemed quite natural to Myra to come down to her first
+Cornish breakfast in a cream serge gown.
+
+Arrived at the shore, she turned in the direction she usually took when
+up above, and walked quickly along the firm smooth sand; pausing
+occasionally to pick up a beautifully marked stone, or to examine a
+brilliant sea-anemone or gleaming jelly-fish, left stranded by the tide.
+
+Presently she reached a place where the cliff jutted out toward the sea;
+and, climbing over slippery rocks, studded with shining pools in which
+crimson seaweed waved, crabs scudded sideways from her passing shadow,
+and darting shrimps flicked across and buried themselves hastily in the
+sand, Myra found herself in a most fascinating cove. The line of cliff
+here made a horseshoe, not quite half a mile in length. The little bay,
+within this curve, was a place of almost fairy-like beauty; the sand a
+soft glistening white, decked with delicate crimson seaweed. The cliffs,
+towering up above, gave welcome shadow to the shore; yet the sun behind
+them still gleamed and sparkled on the distant sea.
+
+Myra walked to the centre of the horseshoe; then, picking up a piece of
+driftwood, scooped out a comfortable hollow in the sand, about a dozen
+yards from the foot of the cliff; stuck her open parasol up behind it, to
+shield herself from the observation, from above, of any chance passer-by;
+and, settling comfortably into the soft hollow, lay back, watching,
+through half-closed lids, the fleeting shadows, the blue sky, the gently
+moving sea. Little white clouds blushed rosy red. An opal tint gleamed on
+the water. The moving ripple seemed too far away to break the restful
+silence.
+
+Lady Ingleby's eyelids drooped lower and lower.
+
+"Yes, my dear Jane," she murmured, dreamily watching a snow-white sail,
+as it rounded the point, curtseyed, and vanished from view; "undoubtedly
+a--a well-expressed sentence; but far from--from--being fact. The safely
+abstract could hardly require--a--a--a cameo----"
+
+The long walk, the sea breeze, the distant lapping of the water--all
+these combined had done their soothing work.
+
+Lady Ingleby slept peacefully in Horseshoe Cove; and the rising tide
+crept in.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+JIM AIRTH TO THE RESCUE
+
+
+An hour later, a man swung along the path at the summit of the cliffs,
+whistling like a blackbird.
+
+The sun was setting; and, as he walked, he revelled in the gold and
+crimson of the sky; in the opal tints upon the heaving sea.
+
+The wind had risen as the sun set, and breakers were beginning to pound
+along the shore.
+
+Suddenly something caught his eye, far down below.
+
+"By Jove!" he said. "A scarlet poppy on the sands!"
+
+He walked on, until his rapid stride brought him to the centre of the
+cliff above Horseshoe Cove.
+
+Then--"Good Lord!" said Jim Airth, and stood still.
+
+He had caught sight of Lady Ingleby's white skirt reposing on the sand,
+beyond the scarlet parasol.
+
+"Good Lord!" said Jim Airth.
+
+Then he scanned the horizon. Not a boat to be seen.
+
+His quick eye travelled along the cliff, the way he had come. Not a
+living thing in sight.
+
+On to the fishing village. Faint threads of ascending vapour indicated
+chimneys. "Two miles at least," muttered Jim Airth. "I could not run it
+and get back with a boat, under three quarters of an hour."
+
+Then he looked down into the cove.
+
+"Both ends cut off. The water will reach her feet in ten minutes; will
+sweep the base of the cliff, in twenty."
+
+Exactly beneath the spot where he stood, more than half way down, was a
+ledge about six feet long by four feet wide.
+
+Letting himself over the edge, holding to tufts of grass, tiny shrubs,
+jutting stones, cracks in the surface of the sandstone, he managed to
+reach this narrow ledge, dropping the last ten feet, and landing on it by
+an almost superhuman effort of balance.
+
+One moment he paused; carefully took its measure; then, leaning over,
+looked down. Sixty feet remained, a precipitous slope, with nothing to
+which foot could hold, or hand could cling.
+
+Jim Airth buttoned his Norfolk jacket, and tightened his belt. Then
+slipping, feet foremost off the ledge, he glissaded down on his back,
+bending his knees at the exact moment when his feet thudded heavily on to
+the sand.
+
+For a moment the shock stunned him. Then he got up and looked around.
+
+He stood, within ten yards of the scarlet parasol, on the small strip of
+sand still left uncovered by the rapidly advancing sweep of the rising
+tide.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+"YEO HO, WE GO!"
+
+
+"A cameo chaperonage," murmured Lady Ingleby, and suddenly opened her
+eyes.
+
+Sky and sea were still there, but between them, closer than sea or sky,
+looking down upon her with a tense light in his blue eyes, stood Jim
+Airth.
+
+"Why, I have been asleep!" said Lady Ingleby.
+
+"You have," said Jim Airth; "and meanwhile the sun has set, and--the tide
+has come up. Allow me to assist you to rise."
+
+Lady Ingleby put her hand into his, and he helped her to her feet. She
+stood beside him gazing, with wide startled eyes, at the expanse of sea,
+the rushing waves, the tiny strip of sand.
+
+"The tide seems very high," said Lady Ingleby.
+
+"Very high," agreed Jim Airth. He stood close beside her, but his eyes
+still eagerly scanned the water. If by any chance a boat came round the
+point there would still be time to hail it.
+
+"We seem to be cut off," said Lady Ingleby.
+
+"We _are_ cut off," replied Jim Airth, laconically.
+
+"Then I suppose we must have a boat," said Lady Ingleby.
+
+"An excellent suggestion," replied Jim Airth, drily, "if a boat were to
+be had. But, unfortunately, we are two miles from the hamlet, and this is
+not a time when boats pass in and out; nor would they come this way. When
+I saw you, from the top of the cliff, I calculated the chances as to
+whether I could reach the boats, and be back here in time. But, before I
+could have returned with a boat, you would have--been very wet," finished
+Jim Airth, somewhat lamely.
+
+He looked at the lovely face, close to his shoulder. It was pale and
+serious, but showed no sign of fear.
+
+He glanced at the point of cliff beyond. Twenty feet above its rocky base
+the breakers were dashing; but round that point would be safety.
+
+"Can you swim?" asked Jim Airth, eagerly.
+
+Myra's calm grey eyes met his, steadily. A gleam of amusement dawned in
+them.
+
+"If you put your hand under my chin, and count 'one--two! one--two!' very
+loud and quickly, I can swim nearly ten yards," she said.
+
+Jim Airth laughed. His eyes met hers, in sudden comprehending
+comradeship. "By Jove, you're plucky!" they seemed to say. But what he
+really said was: "Then swimming is no go."
+
+"No go, for me," said Myra, earnestly, "nor for you, weighted by me. We
+should never get round that eddying whirlpool. It would merely mean that
+we should both be drowned. But you can easily do it alone. Oh, go at
+once! Go quickly! And--don't look back. I shall be all right. I shall
+just sit down against the cliff, and wait. I have always been fond of the
+sea."
+
+Jim Airth looked at her again. And, this time, open admiration shone in
+his keen eyes.
+
+"Ah, brave!" he said. "A mother of soldiers! Such women make of us a
+fighting race."
+
+Myra laid her hand on his sleeve. "My friend," she said, "it was never
+given me to be a mother. But I am a soldier's daughter, and a soldier's
+widow; and--I am not afraid to die. Oh, I do beg of you--give me one
+handclasp and go!"
+
+Jim Airth took the hand held out, but he kept it firmly in his own.
+
+"You shall not die," he said, between his teeth. "Do you suppose I would
+leave any woman to die alone? And _you_--you, of all women!--By heaven,"
+he repeated, doggedly; "you shall not die. Do you think I could go; and
+leave--" he broke off abruptly.
+
+Myra smiled. His hand was very strong, and her heart felt strangely
+restful. And had he not said: "_You_, of all women?" But, even in what
+seemed likely to be her last moments, Lady Ingleby's unfailing instinct
+was to be tactful.
+
+"I am sure you would leave no woman in danger," she said; "and some,
+alas! might have been easier to save than I. Plump little Miss Susie
+would have floated."
+
+Jim Airth's big laugh rang out. "And Miss Murgatroyd could have sailed
+away in her cameo," he said.
+
+Then, as if that laugh had broken the spell which held him inactive:
+"Come," he cried, and drew her to the foot of the cliff; "we have not a
+moment to lose! Look! Do you see the way I came down? See that long slide
+in the sand? I tobogganed down there on my back. Pretty steep, and
+nothing to hold to, I admit; but not so very far up, after all. And,
+where my slide begins, is a blessed ledge four foot by six." He pulled
+out a huge clasp-knife, opened the largest blade, and commenced hacking
+steps in the face of the cliff. "We must climb," said Jim Airth.
+
+"I have never climbed," whispered Myra's voice behind him.
+
+"You must climb to-day," said Jim Airth.
+
+"I could never even climb trees," whispered Myra.
+
+"You must climb a cliff to-night. It is our only chance."
+
+He hacked on, rapidly.
+
+Suddenly he paused. "Show me your reach," he said. "Mine would not do.
+Put your left hand there; so. Now stretch up with your right; as high as
+you can, easily.... Ah! three foot six, or thereabouts. Now your left
+foot close to the bottom. Step up with your right, as high as you can
+comfortably.... Two foot, nine. Good! One step, more or less, might make
+all the difference, by-and-by. Now listen, while I work. What a God-send
+for us that there happens to be, just here, this stratum of soft sand. We
+should have been done for, had the cliff been serpentine marble. You must
+choose between two plans. I could scrape you a step, wider than the
+rest--almost a ledge--just out of reach of the water, leaving you there,
+while I go on up, and finish. Then I could return for you. You could
+climb in front, I helping from below. You would feel safer. Or--you must
+follow me up now, step by step, as I cut them."
+
+"I could not wait on a ledge alone," said Myra. "I will follow you, step
+by step."
+
+"Good," said Jim Airth; "it will save time. I am afraid you must take off
+your shoes and stockings. Nothing will do for this work, but naked feet.
+We shall need to stick our toes into the sand, and make them cling on
+like fingers."
+
+He pulled off his own boots and stockings; then drew the belt from his
+Norfolk jacket, and fastened it firmly round his left ankle in such a way
+that a long end would hang down behind him as he mounted.
+
+"See that?" he said. "When you are in the niches below me, it will hang
+close to your hands. If you are slipping, and feel you _must_ clutch at
+something, catch hold of that. Only, if possible, shout first, and I will
+stick on like a limpet, and try to withstand the strain. But don't do it,
+unless really necessary."
+
+He picked up Myra's shoes and stockings, and put them into his big
+pockets.
+
+At that moment an advance wave rushed up the sand and caught their bare
+feet.
+
+"Oh, Jim Airth," cried Myra, "go without me! I have not a steady head. I
+cannot climb."
+
+He put his hands upon her shoulders, and looked full into her eyes.
+
+"You _can_ climb," he said. "You _must_ climb. You _shall_ climb. We must
+climb--or drown. And, remember: if you fall, I fall too. You will not be
+saving me, by letting yourself go."
+
+She looked up into his eyes, despairingly. They blazed into hers from
+beneath his bent brows. She felt the tremendous mastery of his will. Her
+own gave one final struggle.
+
+"I have nothing to live for, Jim Airth," she said. "I am alone in the
+world."
+
+"So am I," he cried. "I have been worse than alone, for a half score of
+years. But there is _life_ to live for. Would you throw away the highest
+of all gifts? I want to live--Good God! I _must_ live; and so must you.
+We live or die together."
+
+He loosed her shoulders and took her by the wrists. He lifted her
+trembling hands, and held them against his breast.
+
+For a moment they stood so, in absolute silence.
+
+Then Myra felt herself completely dominated. All fear slipped from her;
+but the assurance which took its place was his courage, not hers; and she
+knew it. Lifting her head, she smiled at him, with white lips.
+
+"I shall not fall," she said.
+
+Another wave swept round their ankles, and remained there.
+
+"Good," said Jim Airth, and loosed her wrists. "We shall owe our lives to
+each other. Next time I look into your face, please God, we shall be in
+safety. Come!"
+
+He sprang up the face of the cliff, standing in the highest niches he had
+made.
+
+"Now follow me, carefully," he said; "slowly, and carefully. We are not
+in a position to hurry. Always keep each hand and each foot firmly in a
+niche. Are you there? Good!... Now don't look either up or down, but keep
+your eyes on my heels. Directly I move, come on into the empty places.
+See?... Now then. Can you manage?... Good! On we go! After all it won't
+take long.... I say, what fun if the Miss Murgatroyds peeped over the
+cliff! Amelia would be so shocked at our bare feet. Eliza would cry: 'Oh
+my dear love!' And Susie would promptly fall upon us! Hullo! Steady down
+there! Don't laugh too much.... Fine knife, this. I bought it in Mexico.
+And if the big blade gives out, there are two more; also a saw, and a
+cork-screw.... Mind the falling sand does not get into your eyes.... Tell
+me if the niches are not deep enough, and remember there is no hurry, we
+are not aiming to catch any particular train! Steady down there! Don't
+laugh.... Up we go! Oh, good! This is a third of the way. Don't look
+either up or down. Watch my heels--I wish they were more worth looking
+at--and remember the belt is quite handy, and I am as firm as a rock up
+here. You and all the Miss Murgatroyds might hang on to it together.
+Steady down there!... All right; I won't mention them.... By the way, the
+water must be fairly deep below us now. If you fell, you would merely get
+a ducking. I should slide down and pull you out, and we would start
+afresh.... Good Lord!... Oh, never mind! Nothing. Only, my knife slipped,
+but I caught it again.... We must be half way, by now. How lucky we have
+my glissading marks to guide us. I can't see the ledge from here. Let's
+sing 'Nancy Lee.' I suppose you know it. I can always work better to a
+good rollicking tune."
+
+Then, as he drove his blade into the cliff, Jim Airth's gay voice rang
+out:
+
+                 "Of all the wives as e'er you know,
+                 Yeo ho! lads! ho!
+                 Yeo ho! Yeo ho!
+                 There's none like Nancy Lee, I trow,
+                 Yeo ho! lads! ho!
+                 Yeo ho!
+                 See there she stands
+
+--Blow! I've struck a rock! Not a big one though. Remember this step will
+be slightly more to your right
+
+                --and waves her hands,
+                Upon the quay,
+                And ev'ry day when I'm away,
+                She'll watch for me;
+                And whisper low, when tempests blow--
+
+Oh, hang these unexpected stones! That's finished my big blade!
+
+                      --For Jack at sea,
+                      Yeo ho! lads, ho! Yeo ho!
+
+Now the chorus.
+
+           The sailor's wife the sailor's star shall be,--
+
+Come on! You sing too!"
+
+                           "Yeo ho! we go,
+                           Across the sea!"
+
+came Lady Ingleby's voice from below, rather faint and quavering.
+
+"That's right!" shouted Jim Airth. "Keep it up! I can see the ledge now,
+just above us.
+
+                 The bo's'n pipes the watch below,
+                 Yeo ho! lads! ho!
+                 Yeo ho! Yeo ho!
+                 Then here's a health afore we go,
+                 Yeo ho! lads! ho!
+                 Yeo ho!
+                 A long, long life to my sweet wife,
+                 And mates at sea
+
+--Keep it up down there! I have one hand on the ledge--
+
+                  And keep our bones from Davy Jones
+                  Where'er we be!"
+
+                     "And--keep our bones--from--
+                     Davy Jones--who e'er he be,"
+
+quavered Lady Ingleby, making one final effort to move up into the vacant
+niches, though conscious that her fingers and toes were so numb that she
+could not feel them grip the sand.
+
+Then Jim Airth's whole body vanished suddenly from above her, as he drew
+himself on to the ledge.
+
+"_Yeo ho! we go_!" Came his gay voice from above.
+
+                         _"Yeo ho! Yeo ho!"_
+
+sang Lady Ingleby, in a faint whisper.
+
+She could not move on into the empty niches. She could only remain where
+she was, clinging to the face of the cliff.
+
+She suddenly thought of a fly on a wall; and remembered a particular fly,
+years ago, on her nursery wall. She had followed its ascent with a small
+interested finger, and her nurse had come by with a duster, and saying:
+"Nasty thing!" had ruthlessly flicked it off. The fly had fallen--fallen
+dead, on the nursery carpet.... Lady Ingleby felt she too was falling.
+She gave one agonised glance upward to the towering cliff, with the line
+of sky above it. Then everything swayed and rocked. "A mother of
+soldiers," her brain insisted, "must fall without screaming." Then--A
+long arm shot down from above; a strong hand gripped her firmly.
+
+"One step more," said Jim Airth's voice, close to her ear, "and I can
+lift you."
+
+She made the effort, and he drew her on to the ledge beside him.
+
+"Thank you very much," said Lady Ingleby. "And who was Davy Jones?"
+
+Jim Airth's face was streaming with perspiration. His mouth was full of
+sand. His heart was beating in his throat. But he loved to play the game,
+and he loved to see another do it. So he laughed as he put his arm around
+her, holding her tightly so that she should not realise how much she was
+trembling.
+
+"Davy Jones," he said, "is a gentleman who has a locker at the bottom of
+the sea, into which all drown'd things go. I am afraid your pretty
+parasol has gone there, and my boots and stockings. But we may well spare
+him those.... Oh, I say!.... Yes, do have a good cry. Don't mind me. And
+don't you think between us we could remember some sort of a prayer? For
+if ever two people faced death together, we have faced it; and, by God's
+mercy, here we are--alive."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+'TWIXT SEA AND SKY
+
+
+Myra never forgot Jim Airth's prayer. Instinctively she knew it to be the
+first time he had voiced his soul's thanksgiving or petitions in the
+presence of another. Also she realised that, for the first time in her
+whole life, prayer became to her a reality. As she crouched on the ledge
+beside him, shaking uncontrollably, so that, but for his arm about her,
+she must have lost her balance and fallen; as she heard that strong soul
+expressing in simple unorthodox language its gratitude for life and
+safety, mingled with earnest petition for keeping through the night and
+complete deliverance in the morning; it seemed to Myra that the heavens
+opened, and the felt presence of God surrounded them in their strange
+isolation.
+
+An immense peace filled her. By the time those disjointed halting
+sentences were finished, Myra had ceased trembling; and when Jim Airth,
+suddenly at a loss how else to wind up his prayer, commenced "Our Father,
+Who art in heaven," Myra's sweet voice united with his, full of an
+earnest fervour of petition.
+
+At the final words, Jim Airth withdrew his arm, and a shy silence fell
+between them. The emotion of the mind had awakened an awkwardness of
+body. In that uniting "_Our_ Father," their souls had leapt on, beyond
+where their bodies were quite prepared to follow.
+
+Lady Ingleby saved the situation. She turned to Jim Airth, with that
+impulsive sweetness which could never be withstood. In the rapidly
+deepening twilight, he could just see the large wistful grey eyes, in the
+white oval of her face.
+
+"Do you know," she said, "I really couldn't possibly sit all night, on a
+ledge the size of a Chesterfield sofa, with a person I had to call 'Mr.'
+I could only sit there with an old and intimate friend, who would
+naturally call me 'Myra,' and whom I might call 'Jim.' Unless I may call
+you 'Jim,' I shall insist on climbing down and swimming home. And if you
+address me as 'Mrs. O'Mara,' I shall certainly become hysterical, and
+tumble off!"
+
+"Why of course," said Jim Airth. "I hate titles of any kind. I come of an
+old Quaker stock, and plain names with no prefixes always seem best to
+me. And are we not old and trusted friends? Was not each of those minutes
+on the face of the cliff, a year? While that second which elapsed between
+the slipping of my knife from my right hand and the catching of it,
+against my knee, by my left, may go at ten years! Ah, think if it had
+dropped altogether! No, don't think. We were barely half way up. Now you
+must contrive to put on your shoes and stockings." He produced them from
+his pocket. "And then we must find out how to place ourselves most
+comfortably and safely. We have but one enemy to fight during the next
+seven hours--cramp. You must tell me immediately if you feel it
+threatening anywhere, I have done a lot of scouting in my time, and know
+a dodge or two. I also know what it is to lie in one position for hours,
+not daring to move a muscle, the cold sweat pouring off my face, simply
+from the agonies of cramp. We must guard against that."
+
+"Jim," said Myra, "how long shall we have to sit here?"
+
+He made a quick movement, as if the sound of his name from her lips for
+the first time, meant much to him; and there was in his voice an added
+depth of joyousness, as he answered:
+
+"It would be impossible to climb from here to the top of the cliff. When
+I came down, I had a sheer drop of ten feet. You see the cliff slightly
+overhangs just above us. So far as the tide is concerned we might clamber
+down in three hours; but there is no moon, and by then, it will be pitch
+dark. We must have light for our descent, if I am to land you safe and
+unshaken at the bottom. Dawn should be breaking soon after three. The sun
+rises to-morrow at 3.44; but it will be quite light before then. I think
+we may expect to reach the Moorhead Inn by 4 A.M. Let us hope Miss
+Murgatroyd will not be looking out of her window, as we stroll up the
+path."
+
+"What are they all thinking now?" questioned Lady Ingleby.
+
+"I don't know, and I don't care," said Jim Airth, gaily. "You're alive,
+and I'm alive; and we've done a record climb! Nothing else matters."
+
+"No, but seriously, Jim?"
+
+"Well, seriously, it is very unlikely that I shall be missed at all. I
+often dine elsewhere, and let myself in quite late; or stop out
+altogether. How about you?"
+
+"Why, curiously enough," said Myra, "before coming out I locked my
+bedroom door. I have the key here. I had left some papers lying about--I
+am not a very tidy person. On the only other occasion upon which I locked
+my door, I omitted dinner altogether, and went to bed on returning from
+my evening walk. I am supposed to be doing a 'rest-cure' here. The maid
+tried my door, went away, and did not turn up again until next morning.
+Most likely she has done the same to-night."
+
+"Then I don't suppose they will send out a search-party," said Jim
+Airth.
+
+"No. We are so alone down here. We only matter to ourselves," said Myra.
+
+"And to each other," said Jim Airth, quietly.
+
+Myra's heart stood still.
+
+Those four words, spoken so simply by that deep tender voice, meant more
+to her than any words had ever meant. They meant so much, that they made
+for themselves a silence--a vast holy temple of wonder and realisation
+wherein they echoed back and forth, repeating themselves again and
+again.
+
+The two on the ledge sat listening.
+
+The chant of mutual possession, so suddenly set going, was too beautiful
+a thing to be interrupted by other words.
+
+Even Lady Ingleby's unfailing habit of tactful speech was not allowed to
+spoil the deep sweetness of this unexpected situation. Myra's heart was
+waking; and when the heart is stirred, the mind sometimes forgets to be
+tactful.
+
+At length:--"Don't you remember," he said, very low, "what I told you
+before we began to climb? Did I not say, that if we succeeded in reaching
+the ledge safely, we should owe our lives to each other? Well, we did;
+and--we do."
+
+"Ah, no," cried Myra, impulsively. "No, Jim Airth! You--glad, and safe,
+and free--were walking along the top of these cliffs. I, in my senseless
+folly, lay sleeping on the sand below, while the tide rose around me. You
+came down into danger to save me, risking your life in so doing. I owe
+you my life, Jim Airth; you owe me nothing."
+
+The man beside her turned and looked at her, with his quiet whimsical
+smile.
+
+"I am not accustomed to have my statements amended," he said, drily.
+
+It was growing so dark, they could only just discern each other's faces.
+
+Lady Ingleby laughed. She was so unused to that kind of remark, that, at
+the moment she could frame no suitable reply.
+
+Presently:--"I suppose I really owe my life to my scarlet parasol," she
+said. "Had it not attracted your attention, you would not have seen me."
+
+"Should I not?" questioned Jim Airth, his eyes on the white loveliness of
+her face. "Since I saw you first, on the afternoon of your arrival, have
+you ever once come within my range of vision without my seeing you, and
+taking in every detail?"
+
+"On the afternoon of my arrival?" questioned Lady Ingleby, astonished.
+
+"Yes," replied Jim Airth, deliberately. "Seven o'clock, on the first of
+June. I stood at the smoking-room window, at a loose end of all things;
+sick of myself, dissatisfied with my manuscript, tired of fried
+fish--don't laugh; small things, as well as great, go to make up the sum
+of a man's depression. Then the gate swung back, and YOU--in golden
+capitals--the sunlight in your eyes, came up the garden path. I judged
+you to be a woman grown, in years perhaps not far short of my own age; I
+guessed you a woman of the world, with a position to fill, and a
+knowledge of men and things. Yet you looked just a lovely child, stepping
+into fairy-land; the joyful surprise of unexpected holiday danced in your
+radiant eyes. Since then, the beautiful side of life has always been
+you--YOU, in golden capitals."
+
+Jim Airth paused, and sat silent.
+
+It was quite dark now.
+
+Myra slipped her hand into his, which closed upon it with a strong
+unhesitating clasp.
+
+"Go on, Jim," she said, softly.
+
+"I went out into the hall, and saw your name in the visitors' book. The
+ink was still wet. The handwriting was that of the holiday-child--I
+should like to set you copies! The name surprised me--agreeably. I had
+expected to be able at once to place the woman who had walked up the
+path. It was a surprise and a relief to find that my Fairy-land Princess
+was not after all a fashionable beauty or a society leader, but owned
+just a simple Irish name, and lived at a Lodge."
+
+"Go on, Jim," said Lady Ingleby, rather tremulously.
+
+"Then the name 'Shenstone' interested me, because I know the Inglebys--at
+least, I knew Lord Ingleby, well; and I shall soon know Lady Ingleby. In
+fact I have written to-day asking for an interview. I must see her on
+business connected with notes of her husband's which, if she gives
+permission, are to be embodied in my book. I suppose if you live near
+Shenstone Park you know the Inglebys?"
+
+"Yes," said Myra. "But tell me, Jim; if--if you noticed so much that
+first day; if you were--interested; if you wanted to set me copies--yes,
+I know I write a shocking hand;--why would you never look at me? Why were
+you so stiff and unfriendly? Why were you not as nice to me as you were
+to Susie, for instance?"
+
+Jim Airth sat long in silence, staring out into the darkness. At last he
+said:
+
+"I want to tell you. Of course, I _must_ tell you. But--may I ask a few
+questions first?"
+
+Lady Ingleby also gazed unseeingly into the darkness; but she leaned a
+little nearer to the broad shoulder beside her. "Ask me what you will,"
+she said. "There is nothing, in my whole life, I would not tell you, Jim
+Airth."
+
+Her cheek was so close to the rough Norfolk jacket, that if it had moved
+a shade nearer, she would have rested against it. But it did not move;
+only, the clasp on her hand tightened.
+
+"Were you married very young?" asked Jim Airth.
+
+"I was not quite eighteen. It is ten years ago."
+
+"Did you marry for love?"
+
+There was a long silence, while both looked steadily into the darkness.
+
+Then Myra answered, speaking very slowly. "To be quite honest, I think I
+married chiefly to escape from a very unhappy home. Also I was very
+young, and knew nothing--nothing of life, and nothing of love; and--how
+can I explain, Jim Airth?--I have not learnt much during these ten long
+years."
+
+"Have you been unhappy?" He asked the question very low.
+
+"Not exactly unhappy. My husband was a very good man; kind and patient,
+beyond words, towards me. But I often vaguely felt I was missing the Best
+in life. Now--I know I was."
+
+"How long have you been--How long has he been dead?" The deep voice was
+so tender, that the question could bring no pain.
+
+"Seven months," replied Lady Ingleby. "My husband was killed in the
+assault on Targai."
+
+"At Targai!" exclaimed Jim Airth, surprised into betraying his
+astonishment. Then at once recovering himself: "Ah, yes; of course. Seven
+months. I was there, you know."
+
+But, within himself, he was thinking rapidly, and much was becoming
+clear.
+
+Sergeant O'Mara! Was it possible? An exquisite refined woman such as
+this, bearing about her the unmistakable hall-mark of high birth and
+perfect breeding? The Sergeant was a fine fellow, and superior--but, good
+Lord! _Her_ husband! Yet girls of eighteen do foolish things, and repent
+ever after. A runaway match from an unhappy home; then cast off by her
+relations, and now left friendless and alone. But--Sergeant O'Mara! Yet
+no other O'Mara fell at Targai; and there _was_ some link between him and
+Lord Ingleby.
+
+Then, into his musing, came Myra's soft voice, from close beside him, in
+the darkness: "My husband was always good to me; but----"
+
+And Jim Airth laid his other hand over the one he held. "I am sure he
+was," he said, gently. "But if you had been older, and had known more of
+love and life you would have done differently. Don't try to explain. I
+understand."
+
+And Myra gladly left it at that. It would have been so very difficult to
+explain further, without explaining Michael; and all that really mattered
+was, that--with or without explanation--Jim Airth understood.
+
+"And now--tell me," she suggested, softly.
+
+"Ah, yes," he said, pulling himself together, with an effort. "My
+experience also misses the Best, and likewise covers ten long years. But
+it is a harder one than yours. I married, when a boy of twenty-one, a
+woman, older than myself; supremely beautiful. I went mad over her
+loveliness. Nothing seemed to count or matter, but that. I knew she was
+not a good woman, but I thought she might become so; and even if she
+didn't it made no difference. I wanted her. Afterwards I found she had
+laughed at me, all the time. Also, there had all the time been
+another--an older man than I--who had laughed with her. He had not been
+in a position to marry her when I did; but two years later, he came into
+money. Then--she left me."
+
+Jim Airth paused. His voice was hard with pain. The night was very black.
+In the dark silence they could hear the rhythmic thunder of the waves
+pounding monotonously against the cliff below.
+
+"I divorced her, of course; and he married her; but I went abroad, and
+stayed abroad. I never could look upon her as other than my wife. She had
+made a hell of my life; robbed me of every illusion; wrecked my ideals;
+imbittered my youth. But I had said, before God, that I took her for my
+wife, until death parted us; and, so long as we were both alive, what
+power could free me from that solemn oath? It seemed to me that by
+remaining in another hemisphere, I made her second marriage less sinful.
+Often, at first, I was tempted to shoot myself, as a means of righting
+this other wrong. But in time I outgrew that morbidness, and realised
+that though Love is good, Life is the greatest gift of all. To throw it
+away, voluntarily, is an unpardonable sin. The suicide's punishment
+should be loss of immortality. Well, I found work to do, of all sorts, in
+America, and elsewhere. And a year ago--she died. I should have come
+straight home, only I was booked for that muddle on the frontier they
+called 'a war.' I got fever after Targai; was invalided home; and here I
+am recruiting and finishing my book. Now you can understand why
+loveliness in a woman, fills me with a sort of panic, even while a part
+of me still leaps up instinctively to worship it. I had often said to
+myself that if I ever ventured upon matrimony again, it should be a plain
+face, and a noble heart; though all the while I knew I should never bring
+myself really to want the plain face. And yet, just as the burnt child
+dreads the fire, I have always tried to look away from beauty. Only--my
+Fairy-land Princess, may I say it?--days ago I began to feel certain that
+in you--YOU in golden capitals--the loveliness and the noble heart went
+together. But from the moment when, stepping out of the sunset, you
+walked up the garden path, right into my heart, the fact of YOU, just
+being what you are, and being here, meant so much to me, that I did not
+dare let it mean more. Somehow I never connected you with widowhood; and
+not until you said this evening on the shore: 'I am a soldier's widow,'
+did I know that you were free.--There! Now you have heard all there is to
+hear. I made a bad mistake at the beginning; but I hope I am not the sort
+of chap you need mind sitting on a ledge with, and calling 'Jim'."
+
+For answer, Myra's cheek came trustfully to rest against the sleeve of
+the rough tweed coat. "Jim," she said; "Oh, Jim!"
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+Presently: "So you know the Inglebys?" remarked Jim Airth.
+
+"Yes," said Myra.
+
+"Is 'The Lodge' near Shenstone Park?"
+
+"The Lodge is _in_ the park. It is not at any of the gates.--I am not a
+gate-keeper, Jim!--It is a pretty little house, standing by itself, just
+inside the north entrance."
+
+"Do you rent it from them?"
+
+Myra hesitated, but only for the fraction of a second. "No; it is my own.
+Lord Ingleby gave it to me."
+
+"_Lord_ Ingleby?" Jim Airth's voice sounded like knitted brows. "Why not
+_Lady_ Ingleby?"
+
+"It was not hers, to give. All that is hers, was his."
+
+"I see. Which of them did you know first?"
+
+"I have known Lady Ingleby all my life," said Myra, truthfully; "and I
+have known Lord Ingleby since his marriage."
+
+"Ah. Then he became your friend, because he married her?"
+
+Myra laughed. "Yes," she said. "I suppose so."
+
+"What's the joke?"
+
+"Only that it struck me as an amusing way of putting it; but it is
+undoubtedly true."
+
+"Have they any children?"
+
+Myra's voice shook slightly. "No, none. Why do you ask?"
+
+"Well, in the campaign, I often shared Lord Ingleby's tent; and he used
+to talk in his sleep."
+
+"Yes?"
+
+"There was one name he often called and repeated."
+
+Lady Ingleby's heart stood still.
+
+"Yes?" she said, hardly breathing.
+
+"It was 'Peter'," continued Jim Airth. "The night before he was killed,
+he kept turning in his sleep and saying: 'Peter! Hullo, little Peter!
+Come here!' I thought perhaps he had a little son named Peter."
+
+"He had no son," said Lady Ingleby, controlling her voice with effort.
+"Peter was a dog of which he was very fond. Was that the only name he
+spoke?"
+
+"The only one I ever heard," replied Jim Airth.
+
+Then suddenly Lady Ingleby clasped both hands round his arm.
+
+"Jim," she whispered, brokenly, "Not once have you spoken my name. It was
+a bargain. We were to be old and intimate friends. I seem to have been
+calling you 'Jim' all my life! But you have not yet called me 'Myra,' Let
+me hear it now, please."
+
+Jim Airth laid his big hand over both of hers.
+
+"I can't," he said. "Hush! I can't. Not up here--it means too much. Wait
+until we get back to earth again. Then--Oh, I say! Can't you help?"
+
+This kind of emotion was an unknown quantity to Lady Ingleby. So was the
+wild beating of her own heart. But she knew the situation called for
+tact, and was not tactful speech always her special forte?
+
+"Jim," she said, "are you not frightfully hungry? I should be; only I had
+an enormous tea before coming out. Would you like to hear what I had for
+tea? No. I am afraid it would make you feel worse. I suppose dinner at
+the inn was over, long ago. I wonder what variation of fried fish they
+had, and whether Miss Susannah choked over a fish-bone, and had to be
+requested to leave the room. Oh, do you remember that evening? You looked
+so dismayed and alarmed, I quite thought you were going to the rescue! I
+wonder what time it is?"
+
+"We can soon tell that," said Jim Airth, cheerfully. He dived into his
+pocket, produced a matchbox which he had long been fingering turn about
+with his pipe and tobacco-pouch, struck a light, and looked at his watch.
+Myra saw the lean brown face, in the weird flare of the match. She also
+saw the horrid depth so close to them, which she had almost forgotten. A
+sense of dizziness came over her. She longed to cling to his arm; but he
+had drawn it resolutely away.
+
+"Half past ten," said Jim Airth. "Miss Murgatroyd has donned her
+night-cap. Miss Eliza has sighed: '_Good-night, summer, good-night,
+good-night_,' at her open lattice; and Susie, folding her plump hands,
+has said: '_Now I lay me_.'"
+
+Myra laughed. "And they will all be listening for you to dump out your
+big boots," she said. "That is always your 'Good-night' to the otherwise
+silent house."
+
+"No, really? Does it make a noise?" said Jim Airth, ruefully. "Never
+again----?"
+
+"Oh, but you must," said Myra. "I love--I mean _Susie_ loves the sound,
+and listens for it. Jim, that match reminds me:--why don't you smoke?
+Surely it would help the hunger, and be comfortable and cheering."
+
+Jim Airth's pipe and pouch were out in a twinkling.
+
+"Sure you don't mind? It doesn't make you sick, or give you a headache?"
+
+"No, I think I like it," said Myra. "In fact, I am sure I like it. That
+is, I like to sit beside it. No, I don't do it myself."
+
+Another match flared, and again she saw the chasm, and the nearness of
+the edge. She bore it until the pipe was drawing well. Then: "Oh, Jim,"
+she said, "I am so sorry; but I am afraid I am becoming dizzy. I feel as
+though I must fall over." She gave a half sob.
+
+Jim Airth turned, instantly alert.
+
+"Nonsense," he said, but the sharp word sounded tender. "Four good feet
+of width are as safe as forty. Change your position a bit." He put his
+arm around her, and moved her so that she leant more completely against
+the cliff at their backs. "Now forget the edge," he said, "and listen. I
+am going to tell you camp yarns, and tales of the Wild West."
+
+Then as they sat on in the darkness, Jim Airth smoked and talked,
+painting vivid word-pictures of life and adventure in other lands. And
+Myra listened, absorbed and enchanted; every moment realising more fully,
+as he unconsciously revealed it, the manly strength and honest simplicity
+of his big nature, with its fun and its fire; its huge capacity for
+enjoyment; its corresponding capacity for pain.
+
+And, as she listened, her heart said: "Oh, my cosmopolitan cowboy! Thank
+God you found no title in the book, to put you off. Thank God you found
+no name which you could 'place,' relegating its poor possessor to the
+ranks of 'society leaders' in which you would have had no share. And, oh!
+most of all, I thank God for the doctor's wise injunction: 'Leave behind
+you your own identity'!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+UNDER THE MORNING STAR
+
+
+The night wore on.
+
+Stars shone in the deep purple sky; bright watchful eyes looking down
+unwearied upon the sleeping world.
+
+The sound of the sea below fell from a roar to a murmur, and drew away
+into the distance.
+
+It was a warm June night, and very still.
+
+Jim Airth had moved along the ledge to the further end, and sat swinging
+his legs over the edge. His content was so deep and full, that ordinary
+speech seemed impossible; and silence, a glad necessity. The prospect of
+that which the future might hold in store, made the ledge too narrow to
+contain him. He sought relief in motion, and swung his long legs out into
+the darkness.
+
+It had not occurred to him to wonder at his companion's silence; the
+reason for his own had been so all-sufficient.
+
+At length he struck a match to see the time; then, turning with a smile,
+held it so that its light illumined Myra.
+
+She knelt upon the ledge, her hands pressed against the overhanging
+cliff, her head turned in terror away from it. Her face was ashen in its
+whiteness, and large tears rolled down her cheeks.
+
+Jim dropped the match, with an exclamation, and groped towards her in the
+darkness.
+
+"Dear!" he cried, "Oh, my dear, what is the matter? Selfish fool, that I
+am! I thought you were just resting, quiet and content."
+
+His groping hands found and held her.
+
+"Oh, Jim," sobbed Lady Ingleby, "I am so sorry! It is so weak and
+unworthy. But I am afraid I feel faint. The whole cliff seems to rock and
+move. Every moment I fear it will tip me over. And you seemed miles
+away!"
+
+"You _are_ faint," said Jim Airth; "and no wonder. There is nothing weak
+or unworthy about it. You have been quite splendid. It is I who have been
+a thoughtless ass. But I can't have you fainting up here. You must lie
+down at once. If I sit on the edge with my back to you, can you slip
+along behind me and lie at full length, leaning against the cliff?"
+
+"No, oh no, I couldn't!" whispered Myra. "It frightens me so horribly
+when you hang your legs over the edge, and I can't bear to touch the
+cliff. It seems worse than the black emptiness. It rocks to and fro, and
+seems to push me over. Oh, Jim! What shall I do? Help me, help me!"
+
+"You _must_ lie down," said Jim Airth, between his teeth. "Here, wait a
+minute. Move out a little way. Don't be afraid. I have hold of you. Let
+me get behind you.... That's right. Now you are not touching the cliff.
+Let me get my shoulders firmly into the hollow at this end, and my feet
+fixed at the other. There! With my back rammed into it like this, nothing
+short of an earthquake could dislodge me. Now dear--turn your back to me
+and your face to the sea and let yourself go. You will not fall over. Do
+not be afraid."
+
+Very gently, but very firmly, he drew her into his arms.
+
+Tired, frightened, faint,--Lady Ingleby was conscious at first of nothing
+save the intense relief of the sense of his great strength about her. She
+seemed to have been fighting the cliff and resisting the gaping darkness,
+until she was utterly worn out. Now she yielded to his gentle insistence,
+and sank into safety. Her cheek rested against his rough coat, and it
+seemed to her more soothing than the softest pillow. With a sigh of
+content, she folded her hands upon her breast, and he laid one of his big
+ones firmly over them both. She felt so safe, and held.
+
+Then she heard Jim Airth's voice, close to her ear.
+
+"We are not alone," he said. "You must try to sleep, dear; but first I
+want you to realise that we are not alone. Do you know what I mean? _God
+is here._ When I was a very little chap, I used to go to a Dame-school in
+the Highlands; and the old dame made me learn by heart the hundred and
+thirty-ninth psalm. I have repeated parts of it in all sorts of places of
+difficulty and danger. I am going to say my favourite verses to you now.
+Listen. 'Whither shall I go from Thy Spirit? or whither shall I flee from
+Thy presence?... If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the
+uttermost parts of the sea; even there shall Thy hand lead me, and Thy
+right hand shall hold me. If I say, Surely the darkness shall cover me;
+even the night shall be light about me. Yea, the darkness hideth not from
+Thee; but the night shineth as the day: the darkness and the light are
+both alike to Thee.... How precious also are Thy thoughts unto me, O God!
+how great is the sum of them. If I should count them they are more in
+number than the sand: when I awake I am still with Thee.'"
+
+The deep voice ceased. Lady Ingleby opened her eyes. "I was nearly
+asleep," she said. "How good you are, Jim."
+
+"No, I am not good," he answered. "I'm a tough chap, full of faults, and
+beset by failings. Only--if you will trust me, please God, I will never
+fail you. But now I want you to sleep; and I don't want you to think
+about me. I am merely a thing, which by God's providence is allowed to
+keep you in safety. Do you see that wonderful planet, hanging like a lamp
+in the sky? Watch it, while I tell you some lines written by an American
+woman, on the thought of that last verse."
+
+And with his cheek against her soft hair, and his strong arms firmly
+round her, Jim Airth repeated, slowly, Mrs. Beecher Stowe's matchless
+poem:
+
+        "Still, still with Thee, when purple morning breaketh,
+        When the bird waketh, and the shadows flee;
+        Fairer than morning, lovelier than daylight,
+        Dawns the sweet consciousness--I am with Thee.
+
+        "Alone with Thee, amid the mystic shadows,
+        The solemn hush of nature newly born;
+        Alone with Thee, in breathless adoration,
+        In the calm dew and freshness of the morn.
+
+        "As in the dawning, o'er the waveless ocean,
+        The image of the morning star doth rest;
+        So in this stillness Thou beholdest only
+        Thine image in the waters of my breast.
+
+        "When sinks the soul, subdued by toil, to slumber
+        Its closing eye looks up to Thee in prayer;
+        Sweet the repose, beneath Thy wings o'ershadowing,
+        But sweeter still to wake, and find Thee there.
+
+        "So shall it be at last, in that bright morning
+        When the soul waketh, and life's shadows flee;
+        Oh, in that hour, fairer than daylight's dawning,
+        Shall rise the glorious thought, I am with Thee!"
+
+Jim Airth's voice ceased. He waited a moment in silence.
+
+Then--"Do you like it?" he asked softly.
+
+There was no answer. Myra slept as peacefully as a little child. He could
+feel the regular motion of her quiet breathing, beneath his hand.
+
+"Thank God!" said Jim Airth, with his eyes on the morning star.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+THE AWAKENING
+
+
+When Lady Ingleby opened her eyes, she could not, for a moment, imagine
+where she was.
+
+Dawn was breaking over the sea. A rift of silver, in the purple sky, had
+taken the place of the morning star. She could see the silvery gleam
+reflected in the ocean.
+
+"Why am I sleeping so close to a large window?" queried her bewildered
+mind. "Or am I on a balcony?"
+
+"Why do I feel so extraordinarily strong and rested?" questioned her
+slowly awakening body.
+
+She lay quite still and considered the matter.
+
+Then looking down, she saw a large brown hand clasping both hers. Her
+head was resting in the curve of the arm to which the hand belonged. A
+strong right arm was flung over and around her. All questionings were
+solved by two short words: "Jim Airth."
+
+Lady Ingleby lay very still. She feared to break the deep spell of
+restfulness which held her. She hesitated to bring down to earth the
+exquisite sense of heaven, by which she was surrounded.
+
+As the dawn broke over the sea, a wonderful light dawned in her eyes, a
+radiance such as had never shone in those sweet eyes before. "Dear God,"
+she whispered, "am I to know the Best?"
+
+Then she gently withdrew one hand, and laid it on the hand which had
+covered both.
+
+"Jim," she said. "Jim! Look! It is day."
+
+"Yes?" came Jim Airth's voice from behind her. "Yes? _What?_ COME
+IN!--Hullo! Oh, I say!"
+
+Myra smiled into the dawning. She had already come through those first
+moments of astonished realisation. But Jim Airth awoke to the situation
+more quickly than she had done.
+
+"Hullo!" he said. "I meant to keep watch all the time; but I must have
+slept. Are you all right? Sure? No cramp? Well, I have a cramp in my left
+leg which will make me kick down the cliff in another minute, if I don't
+move it. Let me help you up.... That's the way. Now you sit safely there,
+while I get unwedged.... By Jove! I believe I've grown into the cliff,
+like a fossil ichthyosaurus. Did you ever see an ichthyosaurus? Doesn't
+it seem years since you said: 'And who is Davy Jones?' Don't you want
+some breakfast? I suppose it's about time we went home."
+
+Talking gaily all the time, Jim Airth drew up his long limbs, rubbing
+them vigorously; stretched his arms above his head; then passed his hand
+over his tumbled hair.
+
+"My wig!" he said. "What a morning! And how good to be alive!"
+
+Myra stole a look at him. His eyes were turned seaward. The same
+dawn-light was in them, as shone in her own.
+
+"Don't you want breakfast?" said Jim Airth, and pulled out his watch.
+
+"I do," said Myra, gaily. "And now I can venture to tell you what
+delicious home-made bread I had for tea. What time is it, Jim?"
+
+"Half past three. In a few minutes the sun will rise. Watch! Did you ever
+before see the dawn? Is it not wonderful? Always more of pearl and silver
+than at sunset. Look how the narrow rift has widened and spread right
+across the sky. The Monarch of Day is coming! See the little herald
+clouds, in livery of pink and gold. Now watch where the sea looks
+brightest. Ah!... There is the tip of his blood-red rim, rising out of
+the ocean. And how quickly the whole ball appears. Now see the rippling
+path of gold and crimson, a royal highway on the waters, right from the
+shore below us, to the footstool of his brilliant Majesty.... A new day
+has begun; and we have not said 'Good-morning.' Why should we? We did not
+say 'Good-night.' How ideal it would be, never to say 'Good-morning'; and
+never to say 'Good-night.' The night would be always 'good', and so would
+the morning. All life would be one grand crescendo of good--better--best.
+What? Have we found the Best? Ah, hush! I did not mean to say that
+yet.... Are you ready for the climb down? No, I can't allow any peeping
+over, and considering. If you really feel afraid of it, I will run to
+Tregarth as quickly as possible, rouse the sleeping village, bring ropes
+and men, and haul you up from the top."
+
+"I absolutely decline to be 'hauled up from the top,' or to be left here
+alone," declared Lady Ingleby.
+
+"Then the sooner we start down, the better," said Jim Airth. "I'm going
+first." He was over the edge before Myra could open her lips to
+expostulate. "Now turn round. Hold on to the ledge firmly with your
+hands, and give me your feet. Do you hear? Do as I tell you. Don't
+hesitate. It is less steep than it seemed yesterday. We are quite safe.
+Come on!... That's right."
+
+Then Lady Ingleby passed through a most terrifying five minutes, while
+she yielded in blind obedience to the strong hands beneath her, and the
+big voice which encouraged and threatened alternately.
+
+But when the descent was over and she stood on the shore beside Jim
+Airth; when together they turned and looked in silence up the path of
+glory on the rippling waters, to the blazing beauty of the rising sun,
+thankful tears rushed to Lady Ingleby's eyes.
+
+"Oh, Jim," she exclaimed, "God is good! It is so wonderful to be alive!"
+
+Then Jim Airth turned, his face transfigured, the sunlight in his eyes,
+and opened his arms. "Myra," he said. "We have found the Best."
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+They walked along the shore, and up the steep street of the sleeping
+village, hand in hand like happy children.
+
+Arrived at the Moorhead Inn, they pushed open the garden gate, and
+stepped noiselessly across the sunlit lawn.
+
+The front door was firmly bolted. Jim Airth slipped round to the back,
+but returned in a minute shaking his head. Then he felt in his pocket for
+the big knife which had served them so well; pushed back the catch of the
+coffee-room window; softly raised the sash; swung one leg over, and drew
+Myra in after him.
+
+Once in the familiar room, with its mustard-pots and salt-cellars, its
+table-cloths, left on in readiness for breakfast, they both lapsed into
+fits of uncontrollable laughter; laughter the more overwhelming, because
+it had to be silent.
+
+Jim, recovering first, went off to the larder to forage for food.
+
+Lady Ingleby flew noiselessly up to her room to wash her hands, and
+smooth her hair. She returned in two minutes to find Jim, very proud of
+his success, setting out a crusty home-made loaf, a large cheese, and a
+foaming tankard of ale.
+
+Lady Ingleby longed for tea, and had never in her life drunk ale out of a
+pewter pot. But not for worlds would she have spoiled Jim Airth's boyish
+delight in the success of his raid on the larder.
+
+So they sat at the centre table, Myra in Miss Murgatroyd's place, and Jim
+in Susie's, and consumed their bread-and-cheese, and drank their beer,
+with huge appetites and prodigious enjoyment. And Jim used Miss
+Susannah's napkin, and pretended to be sentimental over it. And Myra
+reproved him, after the manner of Miss Murgatroyd reproving Susie. After
+which they simultaneously exclaimed: "Oh, my dear love!" in Miss Eliza's
+most affecting manner; then linked fingers for a wish, and could neither
+of them think of one.
+
+By the time they had finished, and cleared away, it was half past five.
+They passed into the hall together.
+
+"You must get some more sleep," said Jim Airth, authoritatively.
+
+"I will, if you wish it," whispered Myra; "but I never, in my whole life,
+felt so strong or so rested. Jim, I shall sit at your table, and pour out
+your coffee at breakfast. Let's aim to have it at nine, as usual. It will
+be such fun to watch the Murgatroyds, and to remember our cheese and
+beer. If you are down first, order our breakfasts at the same table."
+
+"All right," said Jim Airth.
+
+Myra commenced mounting the stairs, but turned on the fifth step and hung
+over the banisters to smile at him.
+
+Jim Airth reached up his hand. "How can I let you go?" he exclaimed
+suddenly.
+
+Myra leaned over, and smiled into his adoring eyes.
+
+"How can I go?" she whispered, tenderly.
+
+Jim Airth took both her hands in his. His eyes blazed up into hers.
+
+"Myra," he said, "when shall we be married?"
+
+Myra's face flamed, just as the soft white clouds had flamed when the sun
+arose. But she met the fire of his eyes without flinching.
+
+"When you will, Jim," she answered gently.
+
+"As soon as possible, then," said Jim Airth, eagerly.
+
+Myra withdrew her hands, and mounted two more steps; then turned to bend
+and whisper: "Why?"
+
+"Because," replied Jim Airth, "I do not know how to bear that there
+should be a day, or an hour, or a minute, when we cannot be together."
+
+"Ah, do you feel that, too?" whispered Myra.
+
+"Too?" cried Jim Airth. "Do _you_--Myra! Come back!"
+
+But Lady Ingleby fled up the stairs like a hare. She had not run so fast
+since she was a little child of ten. He heard her happy laugh, and the
+closing of her door.
+
+Then he unbarred the front entrance; and stepping out, stood in the
+sunshine, on the path where he had seen his Fairy-land Princess arrive.
+
+He stretched his arms over his head.
+
+"Mine!" he said. "Mine, altogether! Oh, my God! At last, I have won the
+Highest!"
+
+Then he raced down the street to the beach; and five minutes later, in
+the full strength of his vigorous manhood, he was swimming up the golden
+path, towards the rising sun.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+GOLDEN DAYS
+
+
+The week which followed was one of ideal joy and holiday. Both knew,
+instinctively, that no after days could ever be quite as these first
+days. They were an experience which came not again, and must be realised
+and enjoyed with whole-hearted completeness.
+
+At first Jim Airth talked with determination of a special licence, and
+pleaded for no delay. But Lady Ingleby, usually vague to a degree on all
+questions of law or matters of business, fortunately felt doubtful as to
+whether it would be wise to be married in a name other than her own; and,
+though she might have solved the difficulty by at once revealing her
+identity to Jim Airth, she was anxious to choose her own time and place
+for this revelation, and had set her heart upon making it amid the
+surroundings of her own beautiful home at Shenstone.
+
+"You see, Jim," she urged, "I _have_ a few friends in town and at
+Shenstone, who take an interest in my doings; and I could hardly reappear
+among them married! Could I, Jim? It would seem such an unusual and
+unexpected termination to a rest-cure. Wouldn't it, Jim?"
+
+Jim Airth's big laugh brought Miss Susie to the window. It caused sad
+waste of Susannah's time, that her window looked out on the honeysuckle
+arbour.
+
+"It might make quite a run on rest-cures," said Jim Airth.
+
+"Ah, but they couldn't all meet _you_," said Myra; and the look he
+received from those sweet eyes, atoned for the vague inaccuracy of the
+rejoinder.
+
+So they agreed to have one week of this free untrammelled life, before
+returning to the world of those who knew them; and he promised to come
+and see her in her own home, before taking the final steps which should
+make her altogether his.
+
+So they went gay walks along the cliffs in the breezy sunshine; and Myra,
+clinging to Jim's arm, looked down from above upon their ledge.
+
+They revisited Horseshoe Cove at low water, and Jim Airth spent hours
+cutting the hurried niches into proper steps, so as to leave a staircase
+to the ledge, up which people, who chanced in future to be caught by the
+tide, might climb to safety. Myra sat on the beach and watched him, her
+eyes alight with tender memories; but she absolutely refused to mount
+again.
+
+"No, Jim," she said; "not until we come here on our honeymoon. Then, if
+you wish, you shall take your wife back to the place where we passed
+those wonderful hours. But not now."
+
+Jim, who expected always to have his own way, unless he was given
+excellent reasons in black and white for not having it, was about to
+expostulate and insist, when he saw tears on her lashes and a quiver of
+the sweet smiling lips, and gave in at once without further question.
+
+They hired a tent, and pitched it on the shore at Tregarth, Myra
+telegraphed for a bathing-dress, and Jim went into the sea in his
+flannels and tried to teach her to swim, holding her up beneath her chin
+and saying; "One, two! ONE, TWO!" far louder than Myra had ever had it
+said to her before. Thus, amid much splashing and laughter, Lady Ingleby
+accomplished her swim of ten yards.
+
+Miss Murgatroyd was shocked; nay, more than shocked. Miss Murgatroyd was
+scandalised! She took to her bed forthwith, expecting Miss Eliza and Miss
+Susannah to follow her example--in the spirit, if not to the letter. But,
+released from Amelia's personal supervision, romantic little Susie led
+Eliza astray; and the two took a furtive and fearful joy in seeing all
+they could of the "goings on" of the couple who had boldly converted the
+prosaic Cornish hotel into a land of excitement and romance.
+
+From the moment when on the morning after their adventure, Myra, with
+yellow roses in the belt of her white gown, had swept into the
+coffee-room at five minutes past nine, saying: "My dear Jim, have I kept
+you waiting? I hope the coffee is not cold?"--all life had seemed
+transformed to Miss Susie. Turning quickly, she had caught the look Jim
+Airth gave to the lovely woman who took her place opposite him at his
+hitherto lonely table, and, still smiling into his eyes, lifted the
+coffee-pot.
+
+Amelia's stern whisper had recalled her to her senses, and prevented any
+further glancing round; but she had heard Myra say: "I forgot your sugar,
+Jim. One lump, or two?" and Jim Airth's reply: "As usual, thanks, dear,"
+not knowing, that with a silent twinkle of fun, he laid an envelope over
+his cup, as a sign to Myra, waiting with poised sugar-tongs, that "as
+usual" meant no sugar at all!
+
+Later on, when she one day met Lady Ingleby alone in a passage, Miss
+Susannah ventured two hurried questions.
+
+"Oh, tell me, my dear! Is it _really_ true that you are going to marry
+Mr. Airth? And have you known him long?"
+
+And Myra smiling down into Susie's plump anxious face replied: "Well, as
+a matter of fact, Miss Susannah, Jim Airth is going to marry _me_. And I
+cannot explain how long I have known him. I seem to have known him all my
+life."
+
+"Ah," whispered Miss Susannah with a knowing smile of conscious
+perspicacity; "Eliza and I felt sure it was a tiff."
+
+This remark appeared absolutely incomprehensible to Lady Ingleby; and not
+until she had repeated it to Jim, and he had shouted with laughter, and
+called her a bare-faced deceiver, did she realise that the "tiff" was
+supposed to have been operative during the whole time she and Jim Airth
+had sat at separate tables, and showed no signs of acquaintance.
+
+However, she smiled kindly into the archly nodding face. Then, in the
+consciousness of her own great happiness, enveloped little Susie in her
+beautiful arms, and kissed her.
+
+Miss Susannah never forgot that embrace. It was to her a reflected
+realisation of what it must be to be loved by Jim Airth. And, thereafter,
+whenever Miss Murgatroyd saw fit to use such adjectives as "indecent,"
+"questionable," or "highly improper," Miss Susie bravely gathered up her
+wool-work, and left the room.
+
+Thus the golden days went by, and a letter came for Jim Airth from Lady
+Ingleby's secretary. Her ladyship was away at present but would be
+returning to Shenstone on the following Monday, and would be pleased to
+give him an interview on Tuesday afternoon. The two o'clock express from
+Charing Cross would be met at Shenstone station, unless he wrote
+suggesting another.
+
+"Now that is very civil," said Jim to Myra, as he passed her the letter,
+"and how well it suits our plans. We had already arranged both to go up
+to town on Monday, and you on to Shenstone. So I can come down by that
+two o'clock train on Tuesday, get my interview with Lady Ingleby over as
+quickly as may be, and dash off to my girl at the Lodge. I hope to
+goodness she won't want to give me tea!"
+
+"Which 'she'?" asked Myra, smiling. "_I_ shall certainly want to give you
+tea."
+
+"Then I shall decline Lady Ingleby's," said Jim with decision.
+
+Even during those wonderful days he went on steadily with his book, Myra
+sitting near him in the smoking-room, writing letters or reading, while
+he worked. "I do better work if you are within reach, or at all events,
+within sight," Jim had said; and it was impossible that Lady Ingleby's
+mind should not have contrasted the thrill of pleasure this gave her,
+with the old sense of being in the way if work was to be done; and of
+being shut out from the chief interests of Michael's life, by the closing
+of the laboratory door. Ah, how different from the way in which Jim
+already made her a part of himself, enfolding her into his every
+interest.
+
+She wrote fully of her happiness to Mrs. Dalmain, telling her in detail
+the unusual happenings which had brought it so rapidly to pass. Also a
+few lines to her old friend the Duchess of Meldrum, merely announcing the
+fact of her engagement and the date of her return to Shenstone, promising
+full particulars later. This letter held also a message for Ronald and
+Billy, should they chance to be at Overdene.
+
+Sunday evening, their last at Tregarth, came all too soon. They went to
+the little church together, sitting among the simple fisher folk at
+Evensong. As they looked over one hymn book, and sang "Eternal Father,
+strong to save," both thought of "Davy Jones" in the middle of the hymn,
+and had to exchange a smile; yet with an instant added reverence of
+petition and thanksgiving.
+
+               "Thus evermore, shall rise to Thee,
+               Glad hymns of praise from land and sea."
+
+Jim Airth's big bass boomed through the little church; and Myra, close to
+his shoulder, sang with a face so radiant that none could doubt the
+reality of her praise.
+
+Then back to a cold supper at the Moorhead Inn; after which they strolled
+out to the honeysuckle arbour for Jim's evening pipe, and a last quiet
+talk.
+
+It was then that Jim Airth said, suddenly: "By the way I wish you would
+tell me more about Lady Ingleby. What kind of a woman is she? Easy to
+talk to?"
+
+For a moment Myra was taken aback. "Why, Jim--I hardly know. Easy? Yes, I
+think _you_ will find her easy to talk to."
+
+"Does she speak of her husband's death, or is it a tabooed subject?"
+
+"She speaks of it," said Myra, softly, "to those who can understand."
+
+"Ah! Do you suppose she will like to hear details of those last days?"
+
+"Possibly; if you feel inclined to give them, Jim--do you know who did
+it?"
+
+A surprised silence in the arbour. Jim removed his pipe, and looked at
+her.
+
+"Do I know--who--did--what?" he asked slowly.
+
+"Do you know the name of the man who made the mistake which killed Lord
+Ingleby?"
+
+Jim returned his pipe to his mouth.
+
+"Yes, dear, I do," he said, quietly. "But how came you to know of the
+blunder? I thought the whole thing was hushed up, at home."
+
+"It was," said Myra; "but Lady Ingleby was told, and I heard it then.
+Jim, if she asked you the name, should you tell her?"
+
+"Certainly I should," replied Jim Airth. "I was strongly opposed, from
+the first, to any mystery being made about it. I hate a hushing-up
+policy. But there was the fellow's future to consider. The world never
+lets a thing of that sort drop. He would always have been pointed out as
+'The chap who killed Ingleby'--just as if he had done it on purpose; and
+every man of us knew that would be a millstone round the neck of any
+career. And then the whole business had been somewhat irregular; and 'the
+powers that be' have a way of taking all the kudos, if experiments are
+successful; and making a what-on-earth-were-you-dreaming-of row, if they
+chance to be a failure. Hence the fact that we are all such
+stick-in-the-muds, in the service. Nobody dares be original. The risks
+are too great, and too astonishingly unequal. If you succeed, you get a
+D.S.O. from a grateful government, and a laurel crown from an admiring
+nation. If you fail, an indignant populace derides your name, and a
+pained and astonished government claps you into jail. That's not the way
+to encourage progress, or make fellows prompt to take the initiative. The
+right or the wrong of an action should not be determined by its success
+or failure."
+
+Lady Ingleby's mind had paused at the beginning of Jim's tirade.
+
+"They could not have taken Michael's kudos," she said. "It must have been
+patented. He was always most careful to patent all his inventions."
+
+"Eh, what?" said Jim Airth. "Oh, I see. 'Kudos,' my dear girl, means
+'glory'; not a new kind of explosive. And why do you call Lord Ingleby
+'Michael'?"
+
+"I knew him intimately," said Lady Ingleby.
+
+"I see. Well, as I was saying, I protested about the hushing up, but was
+talked over; and the few who knew the facts pledged their word of honour
+to keep silence. Only, the name was to be given to Lady Ingleby, if she
+desired to know it; and some of us thought you might as well put it in
+_The Times_ at once, as tell a woman. Then we heard she had decided not
+to know."
+
+"What do you think of her decision?" asked Lady Ingleby.
+
+"I think it proved her to be a very just-minded woman, and a very unusual
+one, if she keeps to it. But it would be rather like a woman, to make a
+fine decision such as that during the tension of a supreme moment, and
+then indulge in private speculation afterwards."
+
+"Did you hear her reason, Jim? She said she did not wish that a man
+should walk this earth, whose hand she could not bring herself to touch
+in friendship."
+
+"Poor loyal soul!" said Jim Airth, greatly moved. "Myra, if _I_ got
+accidentally done for, as Ingleby was,--should _you_ feel so, for my
+sake?"
+
+"No!" cried Myra, passionately. "If I lost _you_, my beloved, I should
+never want to touch any other man's hand, in friendship or otherwise, as
+long as I lived!"
+
+"Ah," mused Jim Airth. "Then you don't consider Lady Ingleby's reason for
+her decision proved a love such as ours?"
+
+Myra laid her beautiful head against his shoulder.
+
+"Jim," she said, brokenly, "I do not feel myself competent to discuss any
+other love. One thing only is clear to me;--I never realised what love
+meant, until I knew _you_."
+
+A long silence in the honeysuckle arbour.
+
+Then Jim Airth cried almost fiercely to the woman in his arms: "Can you
+really think you have been right to keep me waiting, even for a day?"
+
+And she who loved him with a love beyond expression could frame no words
+in answer to that question. Thus it came to pass that, in the days to
+come, it was there, unanswered; ready to return and beat upon her brain
+with merciless reiteration: "Was I right to keep him waiting, even for a
+day."
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+In the hall, beside the marble table, where lay the visitors' book, they
+paused to say good-night. From the first, Myra had never allowed him up
+the stairs until her door was closed. "If you don't keep the rules I
+think it right to make, Jim," she had said, with her little tender smile,
+"I shall, in self-defence, engage Miss Murgatroyd as chaperon; and what
+sort of a time would you have then?"
+
+So Jim was pledged to remain below until her door had been shut five
+minutes. After which he used to tramp up the stairs whistling:
+
+                "A long long life, to my sweet wife,
+                And mates at sea;
+                And keep our bones from Davy Jones,
+                Where'er we be.
+                And may you meet a mate as sweet----"
+
+Then his door would bang, and Myra would venture to give vent to her
+suppressed laughter, and to sing a soft little
+
+                  "Yeo ho! we go!--Yeo ho! Yeo ho!"
+
+for sheer overflowing happiness.
+
+But this was the last evening. A parting impended. Also there had been
+tense moments in the honeysuckle arbour.
+
+Jim's blue eyes were mutinous. He stood holding her hands against his
+breast, as he had done in Horseshoe Cove, when the waves swept round
+their feet, and he had cried: "You _must_ climb!"
+
+"So to-morrow night," he said, "you will be at the Lodge, Shenstone; and
+I, at my Club in town. Do you know how hard it is to be away from you,
+even for an hour? Do you realise that if you had not been so obstinate we
+never need have been parted at all? We could have gone away from here,
+husband and wife together. If you had really cared, you wouldn't have
+wanted to wait."
+
+Myra smiled up into his angry eyes.
+
+"Jim," she whispered, "it is _so_ silly to say: '_If_ you had really
+cared'; because you know, perfectly well, that I care for you, more than
+any woman in the world has ever cared for any man before! And I do assure
+you, Jim, that you couldn't have married me _validly_ from here--and
+think how awful it would be, to love as much as we love and then find out
+that we were not _validly_ married--and when you come to my home, and
+fetch me away from there, you will admit--yes really _admit_--that I was
+right. You will have to apologise humbly for having said 'Bosh!' so
+often. Jim--dearest! Look at the clock! I _must_ go. Poor Miss Murgatroyd
+will grow so tired of listening for us. She always leaves her door a
+crack open. So does Miss Susannah. They have all taken to sleeping with
+their doors ajar. I deftly led the conversation round to riddles
+yesterday, when I was alone with them for a few minutes, and asked
+sternly: 'When is a door, not a door?' They all answered: 'When it is a
+jar!' quite unabashed; and Miss Eliza asked another! I believe Susie
+stands at her crack, in the darkness, in hopes of seeing you march by....
+No, don't say naughty words. They are dears, all three of them; and we
+shall miss them horribly to-morrow. Oh, Jim--I've just had such a
+brilliant idea! I shall ask them to be my bridesmaids! Can't you see them
+following me up the aisle? It would be worse than the duchess giving Jane
+away. Ah, you don't know that story? I will tell it you, some day. Jim,
+say 'Good-night' quickly, and let me go."
+
+"Once," said Jim Airth, tightening his grasp on her wrists--"once, Myra,
+we said no 'good-night,' and no 'good-morning.'"
+
+"Jim, darling!" said Myra, gently; "on that night, before I went to
+sleep, you said to me: 'We are not alone. _God is here_.' And then you
+repeated part of the hundred and thirty-ninth psalm. And, Jim--I thought
+you the best and strongest man I had ever known; and I felt that, all my
+life, I should trust you, as I trusted my God."
+
+Jim Airth loosed the hands he had held so tightly, and kissed them very
+gently. "Good-night, my sweetheart," he said, "and God bless you!" Then
+he turned away to the marble table.
+
+Myra ran swiftly up the stairs and closed her door.
+
+Then she knelt beside her bed, and sobbed uncontrollably; partly for joy,
+and partly for sorrow. The unanswered question commenced its reiteration:
+"Ah, was I right to keep him waiting?"
+
+Presently she lifted her head, held her breath, and stared into the
+darkness. A vision seemed to pass across her room. A tall, bearded man,
+in evening clothes. In his arms a tiny dog, peeping at her through its
+curls, as if to say: "_I_ have the better place. Where do _you_ come in?"
+The tall man turned at the door. "Good-night, my dear Myra," he said,
+kindly.
+
+The vision passed.
+
+Lady Ingleby buried her face in the bedclothes. "That--for ten long
+years!" she said. Then, in the darkness, she saw the mutinous fire of Jim
+Airth's blue eyes, and felt the grip of his strong hands on hers. "How
+can I say 'Good-night'?" protested his deep voice, passionately. And,
+with a rush of happy tears, Myra clasped her hands, whispering: "Dear
+God, am I at last to know the Best?"
+
+And up the stairs came Jim Airth, whistling like a nightingale. But, as a
+concession to Miss Murgatroyd's ideas concerning suitable Sabbath music,
+he discarded "Nancy Lee," and whistled:
+
+               "Eternal Father, strong to save,
+               Whose arm hath bound the restless wave;
+               Who bidst the mighty ocean deep,
+               Its own appointed limits keep,
+               O hear us, when we cry to Thee----"
+
+And, kneeling beside her bed, in the darkness, Myra made of it her
+evening prayer.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+"WHERE IS LADY INGLEBY?"
+
+
+When Jim Airth left the train on the following Tuesday afternoon, he
+looked eagerly up and down the platform, hoping to see Myra. True, they
+had particularly arranged not to meet, until after his interview with
+Lady Ingleby. But Myra was so charmingly inconsequent and impulsive in
+her actions. It would be quite like her to reverse the whole plan they
+had made; and, if her desire to see him, in any measure resembled his
+huge hunger for a sight of her, he could easily understand such a
+reversal.
+
+However, Myra was not there; and with a heavy sense of unreasonable
+disappointment, Jim Airth chucked his ticket to a waiting porter, passed
+through the little station, and found a smart turn-out, with tandem
+ponies, waiting outside.
+
+The groom at the leader's head touched his hat.
+
+"For Shenstone Park, sir?"
+
+"Yes," said Jim Airth, and climbed in.
+
+The groom touched his hat again. "Her ladyship said, sir, that perhaps
+you might like to drive the ponies yourself, sir."
+
+"No, thank you," said Jim Airth, shortly. "I never drive other people's
+ponies."
+
+The groom's comprehending grin was immediately suppressed. He touched his
+hat again; gathered up the reins, mounted the driver's seat, flicked the
+leader, and the perfectly matched ponies swung at once into a fast trot.
+
+Jim Airth, a connoisseur in horse-flesh, eyed them with approval. They
+flew along the narrow Surrey lanes, between masses of wild roses and
+clematis. The villagers were working in the hayfields, shouting gaily to
+one another as they tossed the hay. It was a matchless June day, in a
+perfect English summer.
+
+Jim Airth's disappointment at Myra's non-appearance, was lifting rapidly
+in the enjoyment of the drive. After all it was best to adhere to plans
+once made; and every step of these jolly little tapping hoofs was
+bringing him nearer to the Lodge. Perhaps she would be at the window. (He
+had particularly told her _not_ to be!)
+
+"These ponies have been well handled," he remarked approvingly to the
+groom, as they flew round a bend.
+
+"Yes, sir," said the groom, with the inevitable movement towards his hat,
+whip and hand going up together. "Her ladyship always drives them
+herself, sir. Fine whip, her ladyship, sir."
+
+This item of information surprised Jim Airth. Judging by Lord Ingleby's
+age and appearance, he had expected to find Lady Ingleby a sedate and
+stately matron of sixty. It was somewhat surprising to hear of her as a
+fine whip.
+
+However, he had no time to weigh the matter further. Passing an ivy-clad
+church on the village green, they swung through massive iron gates, of
+very fine design, and entered the stately avenue of Shenstone Park. To
+the left, in a group of trees, stood a pretty little gabled house.
+
+"What house is that?" asked Jim Airth, quickly.
+
+"The Lodge, sir."
+
+"Who lives there?"
+
+"Mrs. O'Mara, sir."
+
+"Has Mrs. O'Mara returned?"
+
+"I don't know, sir. She was up at the house with her ladyship this
+morning."
+
+"Then she _has_ returned," said Jim Airth.
+
+The groom looked perplexed, but made no comment.
+
+Jim Airth turned in his seat, and looked back at the Lodge. It was a far
+smaller house than he had expected. This fact did not seem to depress
+him. He smiled to himself, as at some thought which gave him amusement
+and pleasure. While he still looked back, a side door opened; a neatly
+dressed woman in black, apparently a superior lady's-maid, appeared on
+the doorstep, shook out a white table-cloth, and re-entered the house.
+
+They flew on up the avenue, Jim Airth noting every tree with appreciation
+and pleasure. The fine old house came into view, and a moment later they
+drew up at the entrance.
+
+"Good driving," remarked Jim Airth approvingly, as he tipped the little
+groom. Then he turned, to find the great doors already standing wide, and
+a stately butler, with immense black eyebrows, waiting to receive him.
+
+"Will you come to her ladyship's sitting-room, sir?" said the butler, and
+led the way.
+
+Jim Airth entered a charmingly appointed room, and looked around.
+
+It was empty.
+
+"Kindly wait here, sir, while I acquaint her ladyship with your arrival,"
+said the pompous person with the eyebrows, and went out noiselessly,
+closing the door behind him.
+
+Left alone, Jim Airth commenced taking rapid note of the room, hoping to
+gain therefrom some ideas as to the tastes and character of its
+possessor. But almost immediately his attention was arrested by a
+life-size portrait of Lord Ingleby, hanging above the mantelpiece.
+
+Jim Airth walked over to the hearthrug, and stood long, looking with
+silent intentness at the picture.
+
+"Excellent," he said to himself, at last. "Extraordinarily clever. That
+chap shall paint Myra, if I can lay hands on him. What a jolly little
+dog! And what devotion! Mutual and absorbing. I suppose that is Peter.
+Queer to think that I should have been the last to hear him calling
+Peter. I wonder whether Lady Ingleby liked Peter. If not, I doubt if she
+would have had much of a look-in. If anyone went to the wall it certainly
+wasn't Peter."
+
+He was still absorbed in the picture, when the butler returned with a
+long message, solemnly delivered.
+
+"Her ladyship is out in the grounds, sir. As it is so warm in the house,
+sir, her ladyship requests that you come to her in the grounds. If you
+will allow me, sir, I will show you the way."
+
+Jim Airth restrained an inclination to say: "Buck up!" and followed the
+butler along a corridor, down a wide staircase to a lower hall. They
+stepped out on to a terrace running the full length of the house. Below
+it, an old-fashioned garden, with box borders, bright flower beds, a
+fountain in the centre. Beyond this a smooth lawn, sloping down to a
+beautiful lake, which sparkled and gleamed in the afternoon sunshine. On
+this lawn, well to the right, half-way between the house and the water,
+stood a group of beeches. Beneath their spreading boughs, in the cool
+inviting shadow, were some garden chairs. Jim Airth could just discern,
+in one of these, the white gown of a woman, holding a scarlet parasol.
+
+The butler indicated this clump of trees.
+
+"Her ladyship said, sir, that she would await you under the beeches."
+
+He returned to the house, and Jim Airth was left to make his way alone to
+Lady Ingleby, guided by the gleam among the trees of her brilliant
+parasol. Even at that moment it gave him pleasure to find Lady Ingleby's
+taste in sunshades, resembling Myra's.
+
+He stood for a minute on the terrace, taking in the matchless beauty of
+the place. Then his face grew sad and stern. "What a home to leave," he
+said; "and to leave it, never to return!"
+
+He still wore a look of sadness as he descended the steps leading to the
+flower garden, made his way along the narrow gravel paths; then stepped
+on to the soft turf of the lawn, and walked towards the clump of
+beeches.
+
+Jim Airth--tall and soldierly, broad-shouldered and erect--might have
+made an excellent impression upon Lady Ingleby, had she watched his
+coming. But she kept her parasol between herself and her approaching
+guest.
+
+In fact he drew quite near; near enough to distinguish the ripples of
+soft lace about, her feet, the long graceful sweep of her gown; and still
+she seemed unconscious of his close proximity.
+
+He passed beneath the beeches and stood before her. And, even then, the
+parasol concealed her face.
+
+But Jim Airth was never at a loss, when sure of his ground. "Lady
+Ingleby," he said, with grave formality; "I was told to----"
+
+Then the parasol was flung aside, and he found himself looking down into
+the lovely laughing eyes of Myra.
+
+To see Jim Airth's face change from its look of formal gravity to one of
+rapturous delight, was to Myra well worth the long effort of sitting
+immovable. He flung himself down before her with boyish abandon, and
+clasped both herself and her chair in his long arms.
+
+"Oh, you darling!" he said, bending his face over hers, while his blue
+eyes danced with delight. "Oh, Myra, what centuries since yesterday! How
+I have longed for you. I almost hoped you would after all have come to
+the station. How I have grudged wasting all this time in coming to call
+on old Lady Ingleby. Myra, has it seemed long to you? Do you realise, my
+dear girl, that it _can't_ go on any longer; that we cannot possibly live
+through another twenty-four hours of separation? But oh, you Tease! There
+was I, ramping with impatience at every wasted moment; and here were you,
+sitting under this tree, hiding your face and pretending to be Lady
+Ingleby! The astonished and astonishing old party in the eyebrows,
+certainly pointed you out as Lady Ingleby when he started me off on my
+pilgrimage. I say, how lovely you look! What billowy softness! It
+wouldn't do for cliff-climbing; but its A.I. for sitting on lawns.... I
+can't help it! I must!"
+
+"Jim," said Myra, laughing and pushing him away; "what has come to you,
+you dearest old boy? You will really have to behave! We are not in the
+honeysuckle arbour. 'The astonishing old party in the eyebrows' is most
+likely observing us from a window, and will have good cause to look
+astonished, if he sees you 'carrying on' in such a manner. Jim, how nice
+you look in your town clothes. I always like a grey frock-coat. Stand up,
+and let me see.... Oh, look at the green of the turf on those immaculate
+knees! What a pity. Did you don all this finery for me?"
+
+"Of course not, silly!" said Jim Airth, rubbing his knees vigorously.
+"When I haul you up cliffs, I wear old Norfolk coats; and when I duck you
+in the sea, I wear flannels. I considered this the correct attire in
+which to pay a formal call on Lady Ingleby; and now, before she has had a
+chance of being duly impressed by it, I have spoilt my knees hopelessly,
+worshipping at your shrine! Where is Lady Ingleby? Why doesn't she keep
+her appointments?"
+
+"Jim," said Myra, looking up at him with eyes full of unspeakable love,
+yet dancing with excitement and delight; "Jim, do you admire this
+place?"
+
+"This place?" cried Jim, stepping back a pace, so as to command a good
+view of the lake and woods beyond. "It is absolutely perfect. We have
+nothing like this in Scotland. You can't beat for all round beauty a real
+old mellow lived-in English country seat; especially when you get a
+twenty acre lake, with islands and swans, all complete. And I suppose the
+woods beyond, as far as one can see, belong to the Inglebys--or rather,
+to Lady Ingleby. What a pity there is no son."
+
+"Jim," said Myra, "I have so looked forward to showing you my home."
+
+He stepped close to her at once. "Then show it to me, dear," he said. "I
+would rather be alone with you in your own little home--I saw it, as we
+drove up--than waiting about, in this vast expanse of beauty, for Lady
+Ingleby."
+
+"Jim," said Myra, "do you remember a little tune I often hummed down in
+Cornwall; and, when you asked me what it was, I said you should hear the
+words some day?"
+
+Jim looked puzzled. "Really dear--you hummed so many little tunes----"
+
+"Oh, I know," said Myra; "and I have not much ear. But this was very
+special. I want to sing it to you now. Listen!"
+
+And looking up at him, her soft eyes full of love, Myra sang, with slight
+alterations of her own, the last verse of the old Scotch ballad,
+"Huntingtower."
+
+               "Blair in Athol's mine, Jamie,
+               Fair Dunkeld is mine, laddie;
+               Saint Johnstown's bower,
+               And Huntingtower,
+               And all that's mine, is thine, laddie."
+
+"Very pretty," said Jim, "but you've mixed it, my dear. Jamie bestowed
+all his possessions on the lassie. You sang it the wrong way round."
+
+"No, no," cried Myra, eagerly. "There _is_ no wrong way round. Providing
+they both love, it does not really matter which gives. The one who
+happens to possess, bestows. If you were a cowboy, Jim, and you loved a
+woman with lands and houses, in taking her, you would take all that was
+hers."
+
+"I guess I'd take her out to my ranch and teach her to milk cows,"
+laughed Jim Airth. Then turning about under the tree and looking in all
+directions: "But seriously, Myra, where is Lady Ingleby? She should keep
+her appointments. We cannot waste our whole afternoon waiting here. I
+want my girl; and I want her in her own little home, alone. Cannot we
+find Lady Ingleby?"
+
+Then Myra rose, radiant, and came and stood before him. The sunbeams
+shone through the beech leaves and danced in her grey eyes. She had never
+looked more perfect in her sweet loveliness. The man took it all in, and
+the glory of possession lighted his handsome face.
+
+She came and stood before him, laying her hands upon his breast. He
+wrapped his arms lightly about her. He saw she had something to say; and
+he waited.
+
+"Jim," said Myra, "Jim, dearest. There is just one name I want to bear,
+more than any other. There is just one thing I long to be. Then I
+shall be content. I want to have the right to be called 'Mrs. Jim
+Airth.' I want more than all else beside, to be your wife. But--until
+I am that; and may it be very soon! until you make me 'Mrs. Jim
+Airth'--dearest--_I_--am Lady Ingleby."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+UNDER THE BEECHES AT SHENSTONE
+
+
+Jim Airth's arms fell slowly to his sides. He still looked into those
+happy, loving eyes, but the joy in his own died out, leaving them merely
+cold blue steel. His face slowly whitened, hardened, froze into lines of
+silent misery. Then he moved back a step, and Myra's hands fell from
+him.
+
+"_You_--'Lady Ingleby'?" he said.
+
+Myra gazed at him, in unspeakable dismay.
+
+"Jim!" she cried, "Jim, dearest! Why should you mind it so much?"
+
+She moved forward, and tried to take his hand.
+
+"Don't touch me!" he said, sharply. Then: "_You_, Myra? You! Lord
+Ingleby's widow?"
+
+The furious misery of his voice stung Myra. Why should he resent the
+noble name she bore, the high rank which was hers? Even if it placed her
+socially far above him, had she not just expressed her readiness--her
+longing--to resign all, for him? Had not her love already placed him on
+the topmost pinnacle of her regard? Was it generous, was it worthy of Jim
+Airth to take her disclosure thus?
+
+She moved towards the chairs, with gentle dignity.
+
+"Let us sit down, Jim, and talk it over," she said, quietly. "I do not
+think you need find it so overwhelming a matter as you seem to imagine.
+Let me tell you all about it; or rather, suppose you ask me any questions
+you like."
+
+Jim Airth sat blindly down upon the chair farthest from her, put his
+elbows on his knees, and sank his face into his hands.
+
+Without any comment, Myra rose; moved her chair close enough to enable
+her to lay her hand upon his arm, should she wish to do so; sat down
+again, and waited in silence.
+
+Jim Airth had but one question to ask. He asked it, without lifting his
+head.
+
+"Who is Mrs. O'Mara?"
+
+"She is the widow of Sergeant O'Mara who fell at Targai. We both lost our
+husbands in that disaster, Jim. She had been for many years my
+maid-attendant. When she married the sergeant, a fine soldier whom
+Michael held in high esteem, I wished still to keep her near me. Michael
+had given me the Lodge to do with as I pleased. I put them into it. She
+lives there still. Oh, Jim dearest, try to realise that I have not said
+one word to you which was not completely truthful! Let me explain how I
+came to be in Cornwall under her name instead of my own. If I might put
+my hand in yours, Jim, I could tell you more easily.... No? Very well;
+never mind.
+
+"After I received the telegram last November telling me of my husband's
+death, I had a very bad nervous breakdown. I do not think it was caused
+so much by my loss, as by a prolonged mental strain, which had preceded
+it. Just as I had moved to town and was getting better, full details
+arrived, and I had to be told that it had been an accident. You know all
+about the question as to whether I should hear the name or not. You also
+know my decision. The worry of this threw me back. What you said in the
+arbour was perfectly true. I _am_ a woman, Jim; often, a weak one; and I
+was very much alone. I decided rightly, in a supreme moment--possibly you
+may know who it was who graciously undertook to bring me the news from
+the War Office--but, afterwards, I began to wonder; I allowed myself to
+guess. Men from the front came home. My surmisings circled ceaselessly
+around two--dear fellows, of whom I was really fond. At last I felt
+convinced I knew, by intangible yet unmistakable signs, which was he who
+had done it. I grew quite sure. And then--I hardly know how to tell you,
+Jim--of all impossible horrors! The man who had killed Michael wanted to
+marry _me_!--Oh, don't groan, darling; you make me so unhappy! But I do
+not wonder you find it difficult to believe. He cared very much, poor
+boy; and I suppose he thought that, as I should remain in ignorance, the
+_fact_ need not matter. It seems hard to understand; but a man in love
+sometimes loses all sense of proportion--at least so I once heard someone
+say; or words to that effect. I did not allow it ever to reach the point
+of an actual proposal; but I felt I must flee away. There were
+others--and it was terrible to me. I loved none of them; and I had made
+up my mind never to marry again unless I found my ideal. Oh, Jim!"
+
+She laid her hand upon his knee. It might have been a falling leaf, for
+all the sign he gave. She left it there, and went on speaking.
+
+"People gossiped. Society papers contained constant trying paragraphs.
+Even my widow's weeds were sketched and copied. My nerves grew worse.
+Life seemed unendurable.
+
+"At last I consulted a great specialist, who is also a trusted friend. He
+ordered me a rest-cure. Not to be shut up within four walls with my own
+worries, but to go right away alone; to leave my own identity, and all
+appertaining thereto, completely behind; to go to a place to which I had
+never before been, where I knew no one, and should not be known; to live
+in the open air; fare simply; rise early, retire early; but, above all,
+as he quaintly said: 'Leave Lady Ingleby behind.'
+
+"I followed his advice to the letter. He is not a man one can disobey. I
+did not like the idea of taking a fictitious name, so I decided to be
+'Mrs. O'Mara,' and naturally entered her address in the visitors' book,
+as well as her name.
+
+"Oh, that evening of arrival! You were quite right, Jim. I felt just a
+happy child, entering a new world of beauty and delight--all holiday and
+rest.
+
+"And then--I saw you! And, oh my beloved, I think almost from the first
+moment my soul flew to you, as to its unquestioned mate! Your vitality
+became my source of vigour; your strength filled and upheld everything in
+me which had been weak and faltering. I owed you much, before we had
+really spoken. Afterwards, I owed you life itself, and love, and
+all--ALL, Jim!"
+
+Myra paused, silently controlling her emotion; then, bending forward,
+laid her lips upon the roughness of his hair. It might have been the
+stirring of the breeze, for all the sign he made.
+
+"When I found at first that you had come from the war, when I realised
+that you must have known Michael, I praised the doctor's wisdom in making
+me drop my own name. Also the Murgatroyds would have known it
+immediately, and I should have had no peace, As it was, Miss Murgatroyd
+occasionally held forth in the sitting-room concerning 'poor dear Lady
+Ingleby,' whom she gave us to understand she knew intimately. And
+then--oh, Jim! when I came to know my cosmopolitan cowboy; when he told
+me he hated titles and all that appertained to them; then indeed I
+blessed the moment when I had writ myself down plain 'Mrs. O'Mara'; and I
+resolved not to tell him of my title until he loved me enough not to mind
+it, or wanted me enough, to change me at once from Lady Ingleby of
+Shenstone Park, into plain Mrs. Jim Airth of--anywhere he chooses to take
+me!
+
+"Now you will understand why I felt I could not marry you validly in
+Cornwall; and I wanted--was it selfish?--I wanted the joy of revealing my
+own identity when I had you, at last, in my own beautiful home. Oh, my
+dear--my dear! Cannot our love stand the test of so light a thing as
+this?"
+
+She ceased speaking and waited.
+
+She was sure of her victory; but it seemed strange, in dealing with so
+fine a nature as that of the man she loved, that she should have had to
+fight so hard over what appeared to her a paltry matter. But she knew
+false pride often rose gigantic about the smallest things; the very
+unworthiness of the cause seeming to add to the unreasonable growth of
+its dimensions.
+
+She was deeply hurt; but she was a woman, and she loved him. She waited
+patiently to see his love for her arise victorious over unworthy pride.
+
+At last Jim Airth stood up.
+
+"I cannot face it yet," he said, slowly. "I must be alone. I ought to
+have known from the very first that you were--are--Lady Ingleby. I am
+very sorry that you should have to suffer for that which is no fault of
+your own. I must--go--now. In twenty-four hours, I will come back to talk
+it over."
+
+He turned, without another word; without a touch; without a look. He
+swung round on his heel, and walked away across the lawn.
+
+Myra's dismayed eyes could scarcely follow him.
+
+He mounted the terrace; passed into the house. A door closed.
+
+Jim Airth was gone!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+"SURELY YOU KNEW?"
+
+
+Myra Ingleby rose and wended her way slowly towards the house.
+
+A stranger meeting her would probably have noticed nothing amiss with the
+tall graceful woman, whose pallor might well have been due to the unusual
+warmth of the day.
+
+But the heart within her was dying.
+
+Her joy had received a mortal wound. The man she adored, with a love
+which had placed him at the highest, was slowly slipping from his
+pedestal, and her hands were powerless to keep him there.
+
+A woman may drag her own pride in the dust, and survive the process; but
+when the man she loves falls, then indeed her heart dies within her.
+
+She had loved to call Jim Airth a cowboy. She knew him to be avowedly
+cosmopolitan. But was he also a slave to vulgar pride? Being plain Jim
+Airth himself, did he grudge noble birth and ancient lineage to those to
+whom they rightfully belonged? Professing to scorn titles, did he really
+set upon them so exaggerated a value, that he would turn from the woman
+he was about to wed, merely because she owned a title, while he had
+none?
+
+Myra, entering the house, passed to her sitting-room. Green awnings
+shaded the windows. The fireplace was banked with ferns and lilies. Bowls
+of roses stood about; while here and there pots of growing freesias
+poured their delicate fragrance around.
+
+Myra crossed to the hearthrug and stood gazing up at the picture of Lord
+Ingleby. The gentle refinement of the scholarly face seemed accentuated
+by the dim light. Lady Ingleby dwelt in memory upon the consistent
+courtesy of the dead man's manner; his unfailing friendliness and
+equability to all; courteous to men of higher rank, considerate to those
+of lower; genial to rich and poor alike.
+
+"Oh, Michael," she whispered, "have I been unfaithful? Have I forgotten
+how good you were?"
+
+But still her heart died within her. The man who had stalked across the
+lawn, leaving her without a touch or look, held it in the hollow of his
+hand.
+
+A dog-cart clattered up to the portico. Men's voices sounded in the hall.
+Tramping feet hurried along the corridor. Then Billy's excited young
+voice cried, "May we come in?" followed by Ronnie's deeper tones, "If we
+shall not be in the way?" The next moment she was grasping a hand of
+each.
+
+"You dear boys!" she said. "I have never been more glad to see you! Do
+sit down; or have you come to play tennis?"
+
+"We have come to see _you_, dear Queen," said Billy. "We are staying at
+Overdene. The duchess had your letter. She told us the great news; also,
+that you were returning yesterday. So we came over to--to----"
+
+"To congratulate," said Ronald Ingram; and he said it heartily and
+bravely.
+
+"Thank you," said Myra, smiling at them, but her sweet voice was
+tremulous. These first congratulations, coming just now, were almost more
+than she could bear. Then, with characteristic simplicity and
+straightforwardness, she told these old friends the truth.
+
+"You dear boys! It is quite sweet of you to come over; and an hour ago,
+you would have found me radiant. There cannot have been a happier woman
+in the whole world than I. But, you know, I met him, and we became
+engaged, while I was doing my very original rest-cure, which consisted
+chiefly in being Mrs. O'Mara, to all intents and purposes, instead of
+myself. This afternoon he knows for the first time that I am Lady Ingleby
+of Shenstone. And, boys, the shock has been too much for him. He is such
+a splendid man; but a dear delightful cowboy sort of person. He has lived
+a great deal abroad, and been everything you can imagine that bestrides a
+horse and does brave things. He finished up at your horrid little war,
+and got fever at Targai. You must have known him. He calls it 'a muddle
+on the frontier,' and now he is writing a book about it, and about other
+muddles, and how to avoid them. But he has a quite eccentric dislike to
+titles and big properties; so he has shied really badly at mine. He has
+gone off to 'face it out' alone. Hence you find me sad instead of gay."
+
+Billy looked at Ronnie, telegraphing: "Is it? It must be! Shall we tell
+her?"
+
+Ronnie telegraphed back: "It is! It can be no other. _You_ tell her."
+
+Lady Ingleby became aware of these crosscurrents.
+
+"What is it, boys?" she said,
+
+"Dear Queen," cried Billy, with hardly suppressed excitement; "may we ask
+the cowboy person's name?"
+
+"Jim Airth," replied Lady Ingleby, a sudden rush of colour flooding her
+pale cheeks.
+
+"In that case," said Billy, "he is the chap we met tearing along to the
+railway station, as if all the furies were loose at his heels. He looked
+neither to the right nor to the left, nor, for that matter, in front of
+him; and our dog-cart had to take to the path! So he did not see two old
+comrades, nor did he hear their hail. But he cannot possibly have been
+fleeing from your title, dear lady, and hardly from your property; seeing
+that his own title is about the oldest known in Scottish history; while
+mile after mile of moor and stream and forest belong to him. Surely you
+knew that the fellow who called himself 'Jim Airth' when out ranching in
+the West, and still keeps it as his _nom-de-plume_, is--when at
+home--James, Earl of Airth and Monteith, and a few other names I have
+forgotten;--the finest old title in Scotland!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+WHAT BILLY HAD TO TELL
+
+
+"Did you bring your rackets, boys?" Lady Ingleby had said, with fine
+self-control; adding, when they admitted rackets left in the hall, "Ah, I
+am glad you never can resist the chestnut court. It seems ages since I
+saw you two fight out a single. Do go on and begin. I will order tea out
+there in half an hour, and follow you."
+
+Then she escaped to the terrace, flew across garden and lawn, and sought
+the shelter of the beeches. Arrived there, she sank into the chair in
+which Jim Airth had sat so immovable, and covered her face with her
+trembling fingers.
+
+"Oh, Jim, Jim!" she sobbed. "My darling, how grievously I wronged you! My
+king among men! How I misjudged you! Imputing to you thoughts of which
+you, in your noble large-heartedness, would scarcely know the meaning.
+Oh, my dear, forgive me! And oh, come to me through this darkness and
+explain what I have done wrong; explain what it is you have to face; tell
+me what has come between us. For indeed, if you leave me, I shall die."
+
+Myra now felt certain that the fault was hers; and she suffered less than
+when she had thought it his. Yet she was sorely perplexed. For, if the
+Earl of Airth and Monteith might write himself down "Jim Airth" in the
+Moorhead Inn visitors' book, and be blameless, why might not Lady Ingleby
+of Shenstone take an equally simple name, without committing an
+unpardonable offence?
+
+Myra pondered, wept, and reasoned round in a circle, growing more and
+more bewildered and perplexed.
+
+But by-and-by she went indoors and tried to remove all traces of recent
+tears. She must not let her sorrow make her selfish. Ronald and Billy
+would be wanting tea, and expecting her to join them.
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+Meanwhile the two friends, their rackets under their arms, had strolled
+through the shrubbery at the front of the house, to the beautiful tennis
+lawns, long renowned as being the most perfect in the neighbourhood. Many
+a tournament had there been fought out, in presence of a gay crowd,
+lining the courts, beneath the shady chestnut trees.
+
+But on this day the place seemed sad and deserted. They played one set,
+in silence, hardly troubling to score; then walked to the net and stood
+close together, one on either side.
+
+"We must tell her," said Ronald, examining his racket, minutely.
+
+"I suppose we must," agreed Billy, reluctantly. "We could not let her
+marry him."
+
+"Duffer! you don't suppose he would dream of marrying her? He will come
+back, and tell her himself to-morrow. We must tell her, to spare her that
+interview. She need never see him again."
+
+"I say, Ron! Did you see her go quite pink when she told us his name? And
+in spite of the trouble to-day, she looks half a dozen years younger than
+when she went away. You know she does, old man!"
+
+"Oh, that's the rest-cure," explained Ronnie, but without much
+conviction. "Rest-cures always have that effect. That's why women go in
+for them. Did you ever hear of a man doing a rest-cure?"
+
+"Well, I've heard of _you_, at Overdene," said Billy, maliciously.
+
+"Rot! You don't call staying with the duchess a rest-cure? Good heavens,
+man! You get about the liveliest time of your life when her Grace of
+Meldrum undertakes to nurse you. Did you hear about old Pilberry the
+parson, and the toucan?"
+
+"Yes, shut up. You've told me that unholy story twice already. I say,
+Ronnie! We are begging the question. Who's to tell her?"
+
+"You," said Ronald decidedly. "She cares for you like a mother, and will
+take it more easily from you. Then I can step in, later on,
+with--er--_manly_ comfort."
+
+"Confound you!" said Billy, highly indignant. "I'm not such a kid as you
+make out. But I'll tell you this:--If I thought it would be for her real
+happiness, and could be pulled through, I would tell her I did it; then
+find Airth to-morrow and tell him I had told her so."
+
+"Ass!" said Ronnie, affectionately. "As if that could mend matters. Don't
+you know the earl? He was against the hushing-up business from the first.
+He would simply punch your head for daring to lie to her, and go and tell
+her the exact truth himself. Besides, at this moment, he is thinking more
+of his side of the question, than of hers. We fellows have a way of doing
+that. If he had thought first of her, he would have stayed with her and
+seen her through, instead of rushing off like this, leaving her
+heart-broken and perplexed."
+
+"Confound him!" said Billy, earnestly.
+
+"I say, Billy! You know women." It was the first time Ronnie had admitted
+this. "Don't you think--if a woman turned in horror from a man she had
+loved, she might--if he were tactfully on the spot--turn _to_ a man who
+had long loved her, and of whom she had undoubtedly been fond?"
+
+"My knowledge of women," declaimed Billy, dramatically, "leads me to hope
+that she would fall into the arms of the man who loved her well enough to
+risk incurring her displeasure by bravely telling her himself that which
+she ought----"
+
+"Confound you!" whispered Ronnie, who had glanced past Billy, "Shut
+up!--The meshes of this net are better than the other, and the new patent
+sockets undoubtedly keep it----"
+
+"You patient people!" said Lady Ingleby's voice, just behind Billy.
+"Don't you badly need tea?"
+
+"We were admiring the new net," said Ronald Ingram, frowning at Billy,
+who with his back to Lady Ingleby, continued admiring the new net,
+helplessly speechless!
+
+There were brave attempts at merriment during tea. Ronald told all the
+latest Overdene stories; then described the annual concert which had just
+taken place.
+
+"Mrs. Dalmain was there, and sang divinely. She sings her husband's
+songs; he accompanies her. It is awfully fine to see the light on his
+blind face as he listens, while her glorious voice comes pouring forth.
+When the song is over, he gets up from the piano, gives her his arm, and
+apparently leads her off. Very few people realise that, as a matter of
+fact, she is guiding him. She gave, as an encore, a jolly little new
+thing of his--quite simple--but everybody wanted it twice over; an air
+like summer wind blowing through a pine wood, with an accompaniment like
+a blackbird whistling; words something about 'On God's fair earth, 'mid
+blossoms blue'--I forget the rest. Go ahead, Bill!"
+
+                  "There is no room for sad despair,
+                  When heaven's love is everywhere."
+
+quoted Billy, who had an excellent memory.
+
+Myra rose, hastily. "I must go in," she said. "But play as long as you
+like."
+
+Billy walked beside her towards the shrubbery. "May I come in and see
+you, presently, dear Queen? There is something I want to say."
+
+"Come when you will, Billy-boy," said Lady Ingleby, with a smile. "You
+will find me in my sitting-room."
+
+And Billy looked furtively at Ronald, hoping he had not seen. Words and
+smile undoubtedly partook of the maternal!
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was a very grave-faced young man who, half an hour later, appeared in
+Lady Ingleby's sitting-room, closing the door carefully behind him. Lady
+Ingleby knew at once that he had come on some matter which, at all events
+to himself, appeared of paramount importance. Billy's days of youthful
+escapades were over. This must be something more serious.
+
+She rose from her davenport and came to the sofa. "Sit down, Billy," she
+said, indicating an armchair opposite--Lord Ingleby's chair, and little
+Peter's. Both had now left it empty. Billy filled it readily, unconscious
+of its associations.
+
+"Rippin' flowers," remarked Billy, looking round the room.
+
+"Yes," said Lady Ingleby. She devoutly hoped Billy was not going to
+propose.
+
+"Jolly room," said Billy; "at least, I always think so."
+
+"Yes," said Lady Ingleby. "So do I."
+
+Billy's eyes, roaming anxiously around for fresh inspiration, lighted on
+the portrait over the mantelpiece. He started and paled. Then he knew his
+hour had come. There must be no more beating about the bush.
+
+Billy was a soldier, and a brave one. He had led a charge once, running
+up a hill ahead of his men, in face of a perfect hail of bullets. First
+came Billy; then the battalion. Not a man could keep within fifty yards
+of him. They always said afterwards that Billy came through that charge
+alive, because he sprinted so fast, that no bullets could touch him. He
+rushed at the subject now, with the same headlong courage.
+
+"Lady Ingleby," he said, "there is something Ronnie and I both think you
+ought to know."
+
+"Is there, Billy?" said Myra. "Then suppose you tell it me."
+
+"We have sworn not to tell," continued Billy; "but I don't care a damn--I
+mean a pin--for an oath, if _your_ happiness is at stake."
+
+"You must not break an oath, Billy, even for my sake," said Myra,
+gently.
+
+"Well, you see--_if you wished it_, you were to be the one exception."
+
+Suddenly Lady Ingleby understood. "Oh, Billy!" she said. "Does Ronald
+wish me to be told?"
+
+This gave Billy a pang. So Ronnie really counted after all, and would
+walk in--over the broken hearts of Billy and another--in role of manly
+comforter. It was hard; but, loyally, Billy made answer.
+
+"Yes; Ronnie says it is only right; and I think so too. I've come to do
+it, if you will let me."
+
+Lady Ingleby sat, with clasped hands, considering. After all, what did it
+matter? What did anything matter, compared to the trouble with Jim?
+
+She looked up at the portrait; but Michael's pictured face, intent on
+little Peter, gave her no sign.
+
+If these boys wished to tell her, and get it off their minds, why should
+she not know? It would put a stop, once for all, to Ronnie's tragic
+love-making.
+
+"Yes, Billy," she said. "You may as well tell me."
+
+The room was very still. A rosebud tapped twice against the window-pane.
+It might have been a warning finger. Neither noticed it. It tapped a
+third time.
+
+Billy cleared his throat, and swallowed, quickly.
+
+Then he spoke.
+
+"The man who made the blunder," he said, "and fired the mine too soon;
+the man who killed Lord Ingleby, by mistake, was the chap you call 'Jim
+Airth.'"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+JIM AIRTH DECIDES
+
+
+Lady Ingleby awaited Jim Airth's arrival, in her sitting-room.
+
+As the hour drew near, she rang the bell.
+
+"Groatley," she said, when the butler appeared, "the Earl of Airth, who
+was here yesterday, will call again, this afternoon. When his lordship
+comes, you can show him in here. I shall not be at home to any one else.
+You need not bring tea until I ring for it."
+
+Then she sat down, quietly waiting.
+
+She had resumed the mourning, temporarily laid aside. The black gown,
+hanging about her in soft trailing folds, added to the graceful height of
+her slight figure. The white tokens of widowhood at neck and wrists gave
+to her unusual beauty a pathetic suggestion of wistful loneliness. Her
+face was very pale; a purple tint beneath the tired eyes betokened tears
+and sleeplessness. But the calm steadfast look in those sweet eyes
+revealed a mind free of all doubt; a heart, completely at rest.
+
+She leaned back among the sofa cushions, her hands folded in her lap, and
+waited.
+
+Bees hummed in and out of the open windows. The scent of freesias filled
+the room, delicate, piercingly sweet, yet not oppressive. To one man
+forever afterwards the scent of freesias recalled that afternoon; the
+exquisite sweetness of that lovely face; the trailing softness of her
+widow's gown.
+
+Steps in the hall.
+
+The door opened. Groatley's voice, pompously sonorous, broke into the
+waiting silence.
+
+"The Earl of Airth, m'lady"; and Jim Airth walked in.
+
+As the door closed behind him, Myra rose.
+
+They stood, silently confronting one another beneath Lord Ingleby's
+picture.
+
+It almost seemed as though the thoughtful scholarly face must turn from
+its absorbed contemplation of the little dog, to look down for a moment
+upon them. They presented a psychological problem--these brave hearts in
+torment--which would surely have proved interesting to the calm student
+of metaphysics.
+
+Silently they faced one another for the space of a dozen heart-beats.
+
+Then Myra, with a swift movement, went up to Jim Airth, put her arms
+about his neck, and laid her head upon his breast.
+
+"I _know_, my beloved," she said. "You need not give yourself the pain of
+trying to tell me."
+
+"How?" A single syllable seemed the most Jim's lips, for the moment,
+could manage.
+
+"Billy told me. He and Ronald Ingram came over yesterday afternoon, soon
+after you left. They had passed you, on your way to the station. They
+thought I ought to know. So Billy told me."
+
+Jim Airth's arms closed round her, holding her tightly.
+
+"My--poor--girl!" he said, brokenly.
+
+"They meant well, Jim. They are dear boys. They knew you would come back
+and tell me yourself; and they wanted to spare us both that pain. I am
+glad they did it. You were quite right when you said it had to be faced
+alone. I could not have been ready for your return, if I had not heard
+the truth, and had time to face it alone. I _am_ ready now, Jim."
+
+Jim Airth laid his cheek against her soft hair, with a groan.
+
+"I have come to say good-bye, Myra. It is all that remains to be said."
+
+"Good-bye?" Myra raised a face of terrified questioning.
+
+Jim Airth pressed it back to its hiding-place upon his breast.
+
+"I am the man, Myra, whose hand you could never bring yourself to touch
+in friendship."
+
+Myra lifted her head again. The look in her eyes was that of a woman
+prepared to fight for happiness and life.
+
+"You are the man," she said, "whose little finger is dearer to me than
+the whole body of any one else has ever been. Do you suppose I will give
+you up, Jim, because of a thing which happened accidentally in the past,
+before you and I had ever met? Ah, how little you men understand a
+woman's heart! Shall I tell you what I felt when Billy told me, after the
+first bewildering shock was over? First: sorrow for you, my dearest; a
+realisation of how appalling the mental anguish must have been, at the
+time. Secondly: thankfulness--yes, intense overwhelming thankfulness--to
+know at last what had come between us; and to know it was this
+thing--this mere ghost out of the past--nothing tangible or real; no
+wrong of mine against you, or of yours against me; nothing which need
+divide us."
+
+Jim Airth slowly unlocked his arms, took her by the wrists, holding her
+hands against his breast. Then he looked into her eyes with a silent
+sadness, more forcible than speech.
+
+"My own poor girl," he said, at length; "it is impossible for me to marry
+Lord Ingleby's widow."
+
+The strength of his will mastered hers; and, just as in Horseshoe Cove
+her fears had yielded to his dauntless courage, so now Myra felt her
+confidence ebbing away before his stern resolve. Fearful of losing it
+altogether, she drew away her hands, and turned to the sofa.
+
+"Oh, Jim," she said, "sit down and let us talk it over."
+
+She sank back among the cushions and drawing a bowl of roses hastily
+toward her, buried her face in them, fearing again to meet the settled
+sadness of his eyes.
+
+Jim Airth sat down--in the chair left vacant by Lord Ingleby and Peter.
+
+"Listen, dear," he said. "I need not ask you never to doubt my love. That
+would be absurd from me to you. I love you as I did not know it was
+possible for a man to love a woman. I love you in such a way that every
+fibre of my being will hunger for you night and day--through all the
+years to come. But--well, it would always have come hard to me to stand
+in another man's shoes, and take what had been his. I did not feel this
+when I thought I was following Sergeant O'Mara, because I knew he must
+always have been in all things so utterly apart from you. I could, under
+different circumstances, have brought myself to follow Ingleby, because I
+realise that he never awakened in you such love as is yours for me. His
+possessions would not have weighted me, because it so happens I have
+lands and houses of my own, where we could have lived. But, to stand in a
+dead man's shoes, when he is dead through an act of mine; to take to
+myself another man's widow, when she would still, but for a reckless
+movement of my own right hand, have been a wife--Myra, I could not do it!
+Even with our great love, it would not mean happiness. Think of
+it--think! As we stood together in the sight of God, while the Church, in
+solemn voice, required and charged us both, as we should answer at the
+dreadful day of judgment when the secrets of all hearts should be
+disclosed, that if either of us knew any impediment why we might not be
+lawfully joined together in matrimony, we should then confess it--I
+should cry: 'Her husband died by my hand!' and leave the church, with the
+brand of Cain, and the infamy of David, upon me."
+
+Myra lifted frightened eyes; met his, beseechingly; then bent again over
+the roses.
+
+"Or, even if I passed through that ordeal, standing mute in the solemn
+silence, what of the moment when the Church bade me take your right hand
+in my right hand--Myra, _my_ right hand?"
+
+She rose, came swiftly over, and knelt before him. She took his hand, and
+covered it with tears and kisses. She held it, sobbing, to her heart.
+
+"Dearest," she said, "I will never ask you to do, for my sake, anything
+you feel impossible or wrong. But, oh, in this, I know you are mistaken.
+I cannot argue or explain. I cannot put my reasons into words. But I
+_know_ our living, longing, love _ought_ to come before the happenings of
+a dead past. Michael lost his life through an accident. That the accident
+was caused by a mistake on your part, is fearfully hard for you. But
+there is no moral wrong in it. You might as well blame the company whose
+boat took him abroad; or the government which decided on the expedition;
+or the War Office people, who accepted him when he volunteered. I am sure
+I don't know what David did; I thought he was a quite excellent person.
+But I _do_ know about Cain; and I am perfectly certain that the brand of
+Cain could never rest on anyone, because of an unpremeditated accident.
+Oh, Jim! Cannot you look at it reasonably?"
+
+"I looked at it reasonably--after a while--until yesterday," said Jim
+Airth. "At first, of course, all was blank, ghastly despair. Oh, Myra,
+let me tell you! I have never been able to tell anyone. Go back to the
+couch; I can't let you kneel here. Sit down over there, and let me tell
+you."
+
+Lady Ingleby rose at once and returned to her seat; then sat
+listening--her yearning eyes fixed upon his bowed head. He had
+momentarily forgotten what the events of that night had cost her; so also
+had she. Her only thought was of his pain.
+
+Jim Airth began to speak, in low, hurried tones; haunted with a horror of
+reminiscence.
+
+"I can see it now. The little stuffy tent; the hidden light. I was
+already sickening for fever, working with a temperature of 102. I hadn't
+slept for two nights, and my head felt as if it were two large eyes, and
+those eyes, both bruises. I knew I ought to knock under and give the job
+to another man; but Ingleby and I had worked it all out together, and I
+was dead keen on it. It was a place where no big guns could go; but our
+little arrangement which you could carry in one hand, would do better and
+surer work, than half a dozen big guns.
+
+"There was a long wait after Ingleby and the other fellow--it was
+Ingram--started. Cathcart, left behind with me, was in and out of the
+tent; but he couldn't stay still two minutes; he was afraid of missing
+the rush. So I was alone when the signal came. We found afterwards that
+Ingram had crawled out of the tunnel, and gone to take a message to the
+nearest ambush. Ingleby was left alone. He signalled: 'Placed,' as
+agreed. I took it to be 'Fire!' and acted instantly. The moment I had
+done it, I realised my mistake. But that same instant came the roar, and
+the hot silent night was turned to pandemonium. I dashed out of the tent,
+shouting for Ingleby. Good God! It was like hell! The yelling swearing
+Tommies, making up for the long enforced silence and inaction; the hordes
+of dark devilish faces, leering in their fury, and jeering at our
+discomfiture; for inside their outer wall, was a rampart of double the
+strength, and we were no nearer taking Targai.
+
+"Afterwards--if I hadn't owned up at once to my mistake, nobody would
+have known how the thing had happened. Even then, they tried to persuade
+me the wrong signal had been given; but I knew better. And on the spot,
+it was impossible to find--well, any actual proofs of what had happened.
+The gap had been filled at once with crowds of yelling jostling Tommies,
+mad to get into the town. Jove, how those chaps fight when they get the
+chance. When all was over, several were missing who were not among the
+dead. They must have forced themselves in where they could not get back,
+and been taken prisoners. God alone knows their fate, poor beggars. Yet I
+envied them; for when the row was over, my hell began.
+
+"Myra, I would have given my whole life to have had that minute over
+again. And it was maddening to know that the business might have been
+done all right with any old fuse. Only we were so keen over our new ideas
+for signalling, and our portable electric apparatus. Oh, good Lord! I
+knew despair, those days and nights! I was down with fever, and they took
+away my sword, and guns, and razors. I couldn't imagine why. Even despair
+doesn't take me that way. But if a chap could have come into my tent and
+said: 'You didn't kill Ingleby after all. He's all right and alive!' I
+would have given my life gladly for that moment's relief. But no present
+anguish can undo a past mistake.
+
+"Well, I pulled through the fever; life had to be lived, and I suppose
+I'm not the sort of chap to take a morbid view. When I found the thing
+was to be kept quiet; when the few who knew the ins-and-outs stood by me
+like the good fellows they were, saying it might have happened to any of
+them, and as soon as I got fit again I should see the only rotten thing
+would be to let it spoil my future; I made up my mind to put it clean
+away, and live it down. You know they say, out in the great western
+country: 'God Almighty hates a quitter.' It is one of the stimulating
+tenets of their fine practical theology. I had fought through other hard
+times. I determined to fight through this. I succeeded so well, that it
+even seemed natural to go on with the work Ingleby and I had been doing
+together, and carry it through. And when notes of his were needed, I came
+to his own home without a qualm, to ask his widow--the woman I, by my
+mistake, had widowed--for permission to have and to use them.
+
+"I came--my mind full of the rich joy of life and love, with scarcely
+room for a passing pang of regret, as I entered the house without a
+master, the home without a head, knowing I was about to meet the woman I
+had widowed. Truly 'The mills of God grind slowly, but they grind
+exceeding small.' I had thrown off too easily what should have been a
+lifelong burden of regret.
+
+"In the woman I had widowed I found--the woman I was about to wed! Good
+God! Was there ever so hard a retribution?"
+
+"Jim," said Myra, gently, "is there not another side to the picture? Does
+it not strike you that it should have seemed beautiful to find that God
+in His wonderful providence had put you in a position to be able to take
+care of Michael's widow, left so helpless and alone; that in saving her
+life by the strength of your right hand, you had atoned for the death
+that hand had unwittingly dealt; that, though the past cannot be undone,
+it can sometimes be wiped out by the present? Oh, Jim! Cannot you see it
+thus, and keep and hold the right to take care of me forever? My beloved!
+Let us never, from this moment, part. I will come away with you at once.
+We can get a special licence, and be married immediately. We will let
+Shenstone, and let the house in Park Lane, and live abroad, anywhere you
+will, Jim; only together--together! Take me away to-day. Maggie O'Mara
+can attend me, until we are married. But I can't face life without you.
+Jim--I can't! God knows, I can't!"
+
+Jim Airth looked up, a gleam of hope in his sad eyes.
+
+Then he looked away, that her appealing loveliness might not too much
+tempt him, while making his decision. He lifted his eyes; and, alas! they
+fell on the portrait over the mantelpiece.
+
+He shivered.
+
+"I can never marry Lord Ingleby's widow," he said. "Myra, how can you
+wish it? The thing would haunt us! It would be evil--unnatural. Night and
+day, it would be there. It would come between us. Some day you would
+reproach me----"
+
+"Ah, hush!" cried Myra, sharply. "Not that! I am suffering enough. At
+least spare me that!" Then, putting aside once more her own pain: "Would
+it not be happiness to you, Jim?" she asked, with wistful gentleness.
+
+"Happiness?" cried Jim Airth, violently, "It would be hell!"
+
+Lady Ingleby rose, her face as white as the large arum lily in the corner
+behind her.
+
+"Then that settles it," she said; "and, do you know, I think we had
+better not speak of it any more. I am going to ring for tea. And, if you
+will excuse me for a few moments, while they are bringing it, I will
+search among my husband's papers, and try to find those you require for
+your book."
+
+She passed swiftly out. Through the closed door, the man she left alone
+heard her giving quiet orders in the hall.
+
+He crossed the room, in two great strides, to follow her. But at the door
+he paused; turned, and came slowly back.
+
+He stood on the hearthrug, with bent head; rigid, motionless.
+
+Suddenly he lifted his eyes to Lord Ingleby's portrait.
+
+"Curse you!" he said through clenched teeth, and beat his fists upon the
+marble mantelpiece. "Curse your explosives! And curse your inventions!
+And curse you for taking her first!" Then he dropped into a chair, and
+buried his face in his hands. "Oh, God forgive me!" he whispered,
+brokenly. "But there is a limit to what a man can bear."
+
+He scarcely noticed the entrance of the footman who brought tea. But when
+a lighter step paused at the door, he lifted a haggard face, expecting to
+see Myra.
+
+A quiet woman entered, simply dressed in black merino. Her white linen
+collar and cuffs gave her the look of a hospital nurse. Her dark hair,
+neatly parted, was smoothly coiled around her head. She came in,
+deferentially; yet with a quiet dignity of manner.
+
+"I have come to pour your tea, my lord," she said. "Lady Ingleby is not
+well, and fears she must remain in her room. She asks me to give you
+these papers."
+
+Then the Earl of Airth and Monteith rose to his feet, and held out his
+hand.
+
+"I think you must be Mrs. O'Mara," he said. "I am glad to meet you, and
+it is kind of you to give me tea. I have heard of you before; and I
+believe I saw you yesterday, on the steps of your pretty house, as I
+drove up the avenue. Will you allow me to tell you how often, when we
+stood shoulder to shoulder in times of difficulty and danger, I had
+reason to respect and admire the brave comrade I knew as Sergeant
+O'Mara?"
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+Before quitting Shenstone, Jim Airth sat at Myra's davenport and wrote a
+letter, leaving it with Mrs. O'Mara to place in Lady Ingleby's hands as
+soon as he had gone.
+
+"I do not wonder you felt unable to see me again. Forgive me for all the
+grief I have caused, and am causing, you. I shall go abroad as soon as
+may be; but am obliged to remain in town until I have completed work
+which I am under contract with my publishers to finish. It will take a
+month, at most.
+
+"If you want me, Myra--I mean if you _need_ me--I could come at any
+moment. A wire to my Club would always find me.
+
+                                      "May I know how you are?
+                                                    "Wholly yours,
+                                                          "Jim Airth."
+
+To this Lady Ingleby replied on the following day.
+
+"DEAR JIM,
+
+"I shall always want you; but I could never send unless the coming would
+mean happiness for you.
+
+"I know you decided as you felt right,
+
+"I am quite well.
+
+                                        "God bless you always.
+                                                               "MYRA."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+A BETTER POINT OF VIEW
+
+
+In the days which followed, Jim Airth suffered all the pangs which come
+to a man who has made a decision prompted by pride rather than by
+conviction.
+
+It had always seemed to him essential that a man should appear in all
+things without shame or blame in the eyes of the woman he loved.
+Therefore, to be obliged suddenly to admit that a fatal blunder of his
+own had been the cause, even in the past, of irreparable loss and sorrow
+to her, had been an unacknowledged but intolerable humiliation. That she
+should have anything to overlook or to forgive in accepting himself and
+his love, was a condition of things to which he could not bring himself
+to submit; and her sweet generosity and devotion, rather increased than
+soothed his sense of wounded pride.
+
+He had been superficially honest in the reasons he had given to Myra
+regarding the impossibility of marriage between them. He had said all the
+things which he knew others might be expected to say; he had mercilessly
+expressed what would have been his own judgment had he been asked to
+pronounce an opinion concerning any other man and woman in like
+circumstances. As he voiced them they had sounded tragically plausible
+and stoically just. He knew he was inflicting almost unbearable pain upon
+himself and upon the woman whose whole love was his; but that pain seemed
+necessary to the tragic demands of the entire ghastly situation.
+
+Only after he had finally left her and was on his way back to town, did
+Jim Airth realise that the pain he had thus inflicted upon her and upon
+himself, had been a solace to his own wounded pride. His had been the
+mistake, and it re-established him in his own self-respect and sense of
+superiority, that his should be the decision, so hard to make--so
+unfalteringly made--bringing down upon his own head a punishment out of
+all proportion to the fault committed.
+
+But, now that the strain and tension were over, his natural honesty of
+mind reasserted itself, forcing him to admit that his own selfish pride
+had been at the bottom of his high-flown tragedy.
+
+Myra's simple loving view of the case had been the right one; yet,
+thrusting it from him, he had ruthlessly plunged himself and her into a
+hopeless abyss of needless suffering.
+
+By degrees he slowly realised that in so doing he had deliberately
+inflicted a more cruel wrong upon the woman he loved, than that which he
+had unwittingly done her in the past.
+
+Remorse and regret gnawed at his heart, added to an almost unbearable
+hunger for Myra. Yet he could not bring himself to return to her with
+this second and still more humiliating confession of failure.
+
+His one hope was that Myra would find their separation impossible to
+endure, and would send for him. But the days went by, and Myra made no
+sign. She had said she would never send for him unless assured that
+coming to her would mean happiness to him. To this decision she quietly
+adhered.
+
+In a strongly virile man, love towards a woman is, in its essential
+qualities, naturally selfish. Its keynote is, "I need"; its dominant, "I
+want"; its full major chord, "I must possess."
+
+On the other hand, the woman's love for the man is essentially unselfish.
+Its keynote is, "He needs"; its dominant, "I am his, to do with as he
+pleases"; its full major chord, "Let me give all." In the Book of
+Canticles, one of the greatest love-poems ever written, we find this
+truth exemplified; we see the woman's heart learning its lesson, in a
+fine crescendo of self-surrender. In the first stanza she says: "My
+Beloved is mine, and I am his"; in the second, "I am my Beloved's and he
+is mine." But in the third, all else is merged in the instinctive joy of
+giving: "I am my Beloved's, and his desire is towards me."
+
+This is the natural attitude of the sexes, designed by an all-wise
+Creator; but designed for a condition of ideal perfection. No perfect law
+could be framed for imperfection. Therefore, if the working out prove
+often a failure, the fault lies in the imperfection of the workers, not
+in the perfection of the law. In those rare cases where the love is
+ideal, the man's "I take" and the woman's "I give" blend into an ideal
+union, each completing and modifying the other. But where sin of any kind
+comes in, a false note has been struck in the divine harmony, and the
+grand chord of mutual love fails to ring true.
+
+Into their perfect love, Jim Airth had introduced the discord of false
+pride. It had become the basis of his line of action, and their symphony
+of life, so beautiful at first in its sweet theme of mutual love and
+trust, now lost its harmony, and jarred into a hopeless jangle. The very
+fact that she faithfully adhered to her trustful unselfishness,
+acquiescing without a murmur in his decision, made readjustment the more
+impossible. Thus the weeks went by.
+
+Jim Airth worked feverishly at his proofs; drinking and smoking, when he
+should have been eating and sleeping; going off suddenly, after two or
+three days of continuous sitting at his desk, on desperate bouts of
+violent exercise.
+
+He walked down to Shenstone by night; sat, in bitterness of spirit under
+the beeches, surrounded by empty wicker chairs;--a silent ghostly
+garden-party!--watched the dawn break over the lake; prowled around the
+house where Lady Ingleby lay sleeping, and narrowly escaped arrest at the
+hands of Lady Ingleby's night-watchman; leaving for London by the first
+train in the morning, more sick at heart than when he started.
+
+Another time he suddenly turned in at Paddington, took the train down to
+Cornwall, and astonished the Miss Murgatroyds by stalking into the
+coffee-room, the gaunt ghost of his old gay self. Afterwards he went off
+to Horseshoe Cove, climbed the cliff and spent the night on the ledge,
+dwelling in morbid misery on the wonderful memories with which that place
+was surrounded.
+
+It was then that fresh hope, and the complete acceptance of a better
+point of view, came to Jim Airth.
+
+As he sat on the ledge, hugging his lonely misery, he suddenly became
+strangely conscious of Myra's presence. It was as if the sweet wistful
+grey eyes, were turned upon him in the darkness; the tender mouth smiled
+lovingly, while the voice he knew so well asked in soft merriment, as
+under the beeches at Shenstone: "What has come to you, you dearest old
+boy?"
+
+He had just put his hand into his pocket and drawn out his spirit-flask.
+He held it for a moment, while he listened, spellbound, to that whisper;
+then flung it away into the darkness, far down to the sea below. "Davy
+Jones may have it," he said, and laughed aloud; "_who e'er he be!_" It
+was the first time Jim Airth had laughed since that afternoon beneath the
+Shenstone beeches.
+
+Then, with the sense of Myra's presence still so near him, he lay with
+his back to the cliff, his face to the moonlit sea. It seemed to him as
+if again he drew her, shaking and trembling but unresisting, into his
+arms, holding her there in safety until her trembling ceased, and she
+slept the untroubled sleep of a happy child.
+
+All the best and noblest in Jim Airth awoke at that hallowed memory of
+faithful strength on his part, and trustful peace on hers.
+
+"My God," he said, "what a nightmare it has been! And what a fool, I, to
+think anything could come between us. Has she not been utterly mine since
+that sacred night spent here? And I have left her to loneliness and
+grief?.... I will arise and go to my beloved. No past, no shame, no pride
+of mine, shall come between us any more."
+
+He raised himself on his elbow and looked over the edge. The moonlight
+shone on rippling water lapping the foot of the cliff. He could see his
+watch by its bright light. Midnight! He must wait until three, for the
+tide to go down. He leaned back again, his arms folded across his chest;
+but Myra was still safely within them.
+
+Two minutes later, Jim Airth slept soundly.
+
+The dawn awoke him. He scrambled down to the shore, and once again swam
+up the golden path toward the rising sun.
+
+As he got back into his clothes, it seemed to him that every vestige of
+that black nightmare had been left behind in the gay tossing waters.
+
+On his way to the railway station, he passed a farm. The farmer's wife
+had been up since sunrise, churning. She gladly gave him a simple
+breakfast of home-made bread, with butter fresh from the churn.
+
+He caught the six o'clock express for town; tubbed, shaved, and lunched,
+at his Club.
+
+At a quarter to three he was just coming down the steps into Piccadilly,
+very consciously "clothed and in his right mind," debating which train he
+could take for Shenstone if--as in duty bound--he looked in at his
+publishers' first; when a telegraph boy dashed up the steps into the
+Club, and the next moment the hall-porter hastened after him with a
+telegram.
+
+Jim Airth read it; took one look at his watch; then jumped headlong into
+a passing taxicab.
+
+"Charing Cross!" he shouted to the chauffeur. "And a sovereign if you do
+it in five minutes."
+
+As the flag tinged down, and the taxi glided swiftly forward into the
+whirl of traffic, Jim Airth unfolded the telegram and read it again.
+
+It had been handed in at Shenstone at 2.15.
+
+                        Come to me at once.
+                                         Myra.
+
+A shout of exultation arose within him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+MICHAEL VERITAS
+
+
+On the morning of that day, while Jim Airth, braced with a new resolve
+and a fresh outlook on life, was speeding up from Cornwall, Lady Ingleby
+sat beneath the scarlet chestnuts, watching Ronald and Billy play
+tennis.
+
+They had entered for a tournament, and discovered that they required
+constant practice such as, apparently, could only be obtained at
+Shenstone. In reality they came over so frequently in honest-hearted
+trouble and anxiety over their friend, of whose unexpected sorrow they
+chanced to be the sole confidants. Lady Ingleby refused herself to all
+other visitors. In the trying uncertainty of these few weeks while Jim
+Airth was still in England, she dreaded questions or comments. To Jane
+Dalmain she had written the whole truth. The Dalmains were at Worcester,
+attending a musical festival in that noblest of English cathedrals; but
+they expected soon to return to Overdene, when Jane had promised to come
+to her.
+
+Meanwhile Ronald and Billy turned up often, doing their valiant best to
+be cheerful; but Myra's fragile look, and large pathetic eyes, alarmed
+and horrified them. Obviously things had gone more hopelessly wrong than
+they had anticipated. They had known at once that Airth would not marry
+Lady Ingleby; but it had never occurred to them that Lady Ingleby would
+still wish to marry Airth. Ronald stoutly denied that this was the case;
+but Billy affirmed it, though refusing to give reasons.
+
+Ronald had never succeeded in extorting from Billy one word of what had
+taken place when he had told Lady Ingleby that Jim Airth was the man.
+
+"If you wanted to know how she took it, you should have told her
+yourself," said Billy. "And it will be a saving of useless trouble, Ron,
+if you never ask me again."
+
+Thus the days went by; and, though she always seemed gently pleased to
+see them both, no possible opening had been given to Ronald for assuming
+the role of manly comforter.
+
+"I shall give it up," said Ronnie at last, in bitterness of spirit; "I
+tell you, I shall give it up; and marry the duchess!"
+
+"Don't be profane," counselled Billy. "It would be more to the point to
+find Airth, and explain to him, in carefully chosen language, that
+letting Lady Ingleby die of a broken heart will not atone for blowing up
+her husband. I always knew our news would make no difference, from the
+moment I saw her go quite pink when she told us his name. She never went
+pink over Ingleby, you bet! I didn't know they could do it, after
+twenty."
+
+"Much you know, then!" ejaculated Ronnie, scornfully. "I've seen the
+duchess go pink."
+
+"Scarlet, you mean," amended Billy. "So have I, old chap; but that's
+another pair o' boots, as you very well know."
+
+"Oh, don't be vulgar," sighed Ronnie, wearily. "Let's cut the whole thing
+and go to town. Henley begins to-morrow."
+
+But next day they turned up at Shenstone, earlier than usual.
+
+And that morning, Lady Ingleby was feeling strangely restful and at
+peace; not with any expectations of future happiness; but resigned to the
+inevitable; and less apart from Jim Airth. She had fallen asleep the
+night before beset by haunting memories of Cornwall and of their climb up
+the cliff. At midnight she had awakened with a start, fancying herself on
+the ledge, and feeling that she was falling. But instantly Jim Airth's
+arms seemed to enfold her; she felt herself drawn into safety; then that
+exquisite sense of strength and rest was hers once more.
+
+So vivid had been the dream, that its effect remained with her when she
+rose. Thus she sat watching the tennis with a little smile of content on
+her sweet face.
+
+"She is beginning to forget," thought Ronnie, exultant. "_My_ 'vantage!"
+he shouted significantly to Billy, over the net.
+
+"Deuce!" responded Billy, smashing down the ball with unnecessary
+violence.
+
+"No!" cried Ronnie. "Outside, my boy! Game and a 'love' set to me!"
+
+"Stay to lunch, boys," said Lady Ingleby, as the gong sounded; and they
+all three went gaily into the house.
+
+As they passed through the hall afterwards, their motor stood at the
+door; so they bade her good-bye, and turned to find their rackets.
+
+At that moment they heard the sharp ting of a bicycle bell. A boy had
+ridden up with a telegram. Groatley, waiting to see them off, took it;
+picked up a silver salver from the hall table, and followed Lady Ingleby
+to her sitting-room.
+
+There seemed so sudden a silence in the house, that Ronald and Billy with
+one accord stood listening.
+
+"Twenty minutes to two," said Billy, glancing at the clock. "Spirits are
+walking."
+
+The next moment a cry rang out from Lady Ingleby's sitting-room--a cry of
+such mingled bewilderment, wonder, and relief, that they looked at one
+another in amazement. Then without waiting to question or consider, they
+hastened to her.
+
+Lady Ingleby was standing in the middle of the room, an open telegram in
+her hand.
+
+"Jim," she was saying; "Oh, Jim!"
+
+Her face was so transfigured by thankfulness and joy, that neither Ronald
+nor Billy could frame a question. They merely gazed at her.
+
+"Oh, Billy! Oh, Ronald!" she said, "_He didn't do it!_ Oh think what this
+will mean to Jim Airth. Stop the boy! Quick! Bring me a telegram form. I
+must send for him at once.... Oh, Jim, Jim!.... He said he would give his
+life for the relief of the moment when some one should step into the tent
+and tell him he had not done it; and now I shall be that 'some one'!....
+Oh, _how_ do you spell 'Piccadilly'.... Please call Groatley. If we lose
+no time, he may catch the three o'clock express.... Groatley, tell the
+boy to take this telegram and have it sent off immediately. Give him
+half-a-crown, and say he may keep the change.... Now boys.... Shut the
+door!"
+
+The whirlwind of excitement was succeeded by sudden stillness. Lady
+Ingleby sank upon the sofa, burying her face for a moment in the
+cushions.
+
+In the silence they heard the telegraph boy disappearing rapidly into the
+distance, ringing his bell a very unnecessary number of times. When it
+could be heard no longer, Lady Ingleby lifted her head.
+
+"Michael is alive," she said.
+
+"Great Scot!" exclaimed Ronnie, and took a step forward.
+
+Billy made no sound, but he turned very white; backed to the door, and
+leaned against it for support.
+
+"Think what it means to Jim Airth!" said Lady Ingleby. "Think of the
+despair and misery through which he passed; and, after all, he had not
+done it."
+
+"May we see?" asked Ronald eagerly, holding out his hand for the
+telegram.
+
+Billy licked his dry lips, but no sound would come.
+
+"Read it," said Myra.
+
+Ronald took the telegram and read it aloud.
+
+  "_To Lady Ingleby, Shenstone Park, Shenstone, England._
+
+  "_Reported death a mistake. Taken prisoner Targai. Escaped. Arrived
+  Cairo. Large bribes and rewards to pay. Cable five hundred pounds
+  to Cook's immediately._
+
+  "_Michael Veritas._"
+
+"Great Scot!" said Ronnie again.
+
+Billy said nothing; but his eyes never left Lady Ingleby's radiant face.
+
+"Think what it will mean to Jim Airth," she repeated.
+
+"Er--yes," said Ronnie. "It considerably changes the situation--for him.
+What does 'Veritas' mean?"
+
+"That," replied Lady Ingleby "is our private code, Michael's and mine. My
+mother once wired to me in Michael's name, and to Michael in mine--dear
+mamma occasionally does eccentric things--and it made complications.
+Michael was very much annoyed; and after that we took to signing our
+telegrams 'Veritas,' which means: 'This is really from me.'"
+
+"Just think!" said Ronnie. "He, a prisoner; and we, all marching away!
+But I remember now, we always suspected prisoners had been taken at
+Targai. And positive proofs of Lord Ingleby's death were difficult
+to--well, don't you know--to find. I mean--there couldn't be a funeral.
+We had to conclude it, because we believed him to have been right inside
+the tunnel. He must have got clear after all, before Airth sent the
+flash, and getting in with the first rush, been unable to return. Of
+course he has reached Cairo with no money and no means of getting home.
+And the chaps who helped him, will stick to him like leeches till they
+get their pay. What shall you do about cabling?"
+
+Lady Ingleby seemed to collect her thoughts with difficulty.
+
+"Of course the money must be sent--and sent at once," she said. "Oh,
+Ronnie, _could_ you go up to town about it, for me? I would give you a
+cheque, and a note to my bankers; they will know how to cable it through.
+Could you, Ronnie? Michael must not be kept waiting; yet I must stay here
+to tell Jim. It never struck me that I might have gone up to town myself;
+and now I have wired to Jim to come down here. Oh, my dear Ronnie, could
+you?"
+
+"Of course I could," said Ronald, cheerfully. "The motor is at the door.
+I can catch the two-thirty, if you write the note at once. No need for a
+cheque. Just write a few lines authorising your bankers to send out the
+money; I will see them personally; explain the whole thing, and hurry
+them up. The money shall be in Cairo to-night, if possible."
+
+Lady Ingleby went to her davenport.
+
+No sound broke the stillness save the rapid scratching of her pen.
+
+Then Billy spoke. "I will come with you," he said, hoarsely.
+
+"Why do that?" objected Ronald. "You may as well go on in the motor to
+Overdene, and tell them there."
+
+"I am going to town," said Billy, decidedly. Then he walked over to where
+the telegram still lay on the table. "May I copy this?" he asked of Lady
+Ingleby.
+
+"Do," she said, without looking round.
+
+"And Ronnie--you take the original to show them at the bank. Ah, no! I
+must keep that for Jim. Here is paper. Make two copies, Billy."
+
+Billy had already copied the message into his pocket-book. With shaking
+fingers he copied it again, handing the sheet to Ronald, without looking
+at him.
+
+The note written, Lady Ingleby rose.
+
+"Thank you, Ronald," she said. "Thank you, more than I can say. I think
+you will catch the train. And good-bye, Billy."
+
+But Billy was already in the motor.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+LORD INGLEBY'S WIFE
+
+
+The journey down from town had been as satisfactorily rapid as even Jim
+Airth could desire. He had caught the train at Charing Cross by five
+seconds.
+
+The hour's run passed quickly in glowing anticipation of that which was
+being brought nearer by every turn of the wheels.
+
+Myra's telegram was drawn from his pocket-book many times. Each word
+seemed fraught with tender meaning, "_Come to me at once._" It was so
+exactly Myra's simple direct method of expression. Most people would have
+said, "Come here," or "Come to Shenstone," or merely "Come." "Come _to
+me_" seemed a tender, though unconscious, response to his resolution of
+the night before: "I will arise and go to my beloved."
+
+Now that the parting was nearly over, he realised how terrible had been
+the blank of three weeks spent apart from Myra. Her sweet personality was
+so knit into his life, that he needed her--not at any particular time, or
+in any particular way--but always; as the air he breathed; or as the
+light, which made the day.
+
+And she? He drew a well-worn letter from his pocket-book--the only letter
+he had ever had from Myra.
+
+"I shall always want you," it said; "but I could never send, unless the
+coming would mean happiness for you."
+
+Yet she _had_ sent. Then she had happiness in store for him. Had she
+instinctively realised his change of mind? Or had she gauged his
+desperate hunger by her own, and understood that the satisfying of that,
+_must_ mean happiness, whatever else of sorrow might lie in the
+background?
+
+But there should be no background of anything but perfect joy, when Myra
+was his wife. Would he not have the turning of the fair leaves of her
+book of life? Each page should unfold fresh happiness, hold new
+surprises as to what life and love could mean. He would know how to guard
+her from the faintest shadow of disillusion. Even now it was his right
+to keep her from that. How much, after all, should he tell her of the
+heart-searchings of these wretched weeks? Last night he had meant to
+tell her everything; he had meant to say: "I have sinned against
+heaven--the heaven of our love--and before thee; and am no more
+worthy...." But was it not essential to a woman's happiness to believe the
+man she loved, to be in all ways, worthy? Out of his pocket came again
+the well-worn letter. "I know you decided as you felt right," wrote Myra.
+Why perplex her with explanations? Let the dead past bury its dead. No
+need to cloud, even momentarily, the joy with which they could now go
+forward into a new life. And what a life! Wedded life with Myra----
+
+"Shenstone Junction!" shouted a porter and Jim Airth was across the
+platform before the train had stopped.
+
+The tandem ponies waited outside the station, and this time Jim Airth
+gathered up the reins with a gay smile, flicking the leader, lightly.
+Before, he had said: "I never drive other people's ponies," in response
+to "Her ladyship's" message; but now--"All that's mine, is thine,
+laddie."
+
+He whistled "Huntingtower," as he drove between the hayfields. Sprays of
+overhanging traveller's-joy brushed his shoulder in the narrow lanes. It
+was good to be alive on such a day. It was good not to be leaving
+England, in England's most perfect weather.... Should he take her home to
+Scotland for their honeymoon, or down to Cornwall?
+
+What a jolly little church!
+
+Evidently Myra never slacked pace for a gate. How the ponies dashed
+through, and into the avenue!
+
+Poor Mrs. O'Mara! It had been difficult to be civil to her, when she had
+appeared instead of Myra to give him tea.
+
+Of course Scotland would be jolly, with so much to show her; but Cornwall
+meant more, in its associations. Yes; he would arrange for the honeymoon
+in Cornwall; be married in the morning, up in town; no fuss; then go
+straight down to the old Moorhead Inn. And after dinner, they would sit
+in the honeysuckle arbour, and----
+
+Groatley showed him into Myra's sitting-room.
+
+She was not there.
+
+He walked over to the mantelpiece. It seemed years since that evening
+when, in a sudden fury against Fate, he had crashed his fists upon its
+marble edge. He raised his eyes to Lord Ingleby's portrait. Poor old
+chap! He looked so content, and so pleased with himself, and his little
+dog. But he must have always appeared more like Myra's father than
+her--than anything else.
+
+On the mantelpiece lay a telegram. After the manner of leisurely country
+post-offices, the full address was written on the envelope. It caught Jim
+Airth's eye, and hardly conscious of doing so, he took it up and read it.
+"_Lady Ingleby, Shenstone Park, England._" He laid it down. "England?" he
+wondered, idly. "Who can have been wiring to her from abroad?"
+
+Then he turned. He had not heard her enter; but she was standing behind
+him.
+
+"Myra!" he cried, and caught her to his heart.
+
+The rapture and relief of that moment were unspeakable. No words seemed
+possible. He could only strain her to him, silently, with all his
+strength, and realise that she was safely there at last.
+
+Myra had lifted her arms, and laid them lightly about his neck, hiding
+her face upon his breast.... He never knew exactly when he began to
+realise a subtle change about the quality of her embrace; the woman's
+passionate tenderness seemed missing; it rather resembled the trustful
+clinging of a little child. An uneasy foreboding, for which he could not
+account, assailed Jim Airth.
+
+"Kiss me, Myra!" he said, peremptorily, and she, lifting her sweet face
+to his, kissed him at once. But it was the pure loving kiss of a little
+child.
+
+Then she withdrew herself from his embrace; and, standing back, he looked
+at her, perplexed. The light upon her face seemed hardly earthly.
+
+"Oh, Jim," she said, "God's ways are wonderful! I have such news for you,
+my friend. I thank God, it came before you had gone beyond recall. And I,
+who had been the one, unwittingly, to add so terribly to the weight of
+the lifelong cross you had to bear, am privileged to be the one to lift
+it quite away. Jim--_you did not do it!_"
+
+Jim Airth gazed at her in troubled amazement. Into his mind,
+involuntarily, came the awesome Scotch word "fey."
+
+"I did not do what, dear?" he asked, gently, as if he were speaking to a
+little child whom he was anxious not to frighten.
+
+"You did not kill Michael."
+
+"What makes you think I did not kill Michael, dear?" questioned Jim
+Airth, gently.
+
+"Because," said Myra, with clasped hands, "Michael is alive."
+
+"Dearest heart," said Jim Airth, tenderly, "you are not well. These awful
+three weeks, and what went before, have been too much for you. The strain
+has upset you. I was a brute to go off and leave you. But you knew I did
+what I thought right at the time; didn't you, Myra? Only now I see the
+whole thing quite differently. Your view was the true one. We ought to
+have acted upon it, and been married at once."
+
+"Oh, Jim," said Myra, "thank God we didn't! It would have been so
+terrible now. It must have been a case of 'Even there shall Thy hand lead
+me, and Thy right hand shall hold me.' In our unconscious ignorance, we
+might have gone away together, not knowing Michael was alive."
+
+Beads of perspiration stood on Jim Airth's forehead.
+
+"My darling, you are ill," he said, in a voice of agonised anxiety. "I am
+afraid you are very ill. Do sit down quietly on the couch, and let me
+ring. I must speak to the O'Mara woman, or somebody. Why didn't the fools
+let me know? Have you been ill all these weeks?"
+
+Myra let him place her on the couch; smiling up at him reassuringly, as
+he stood before her.
+
+"You must not ring the bell, Jim," she said. "Maggie is at the Lodge; and
+Groatley would be so astonished. I am quite well."
+
+He looked around, in man-like helplessness; yet feeling something must be
+done. A long ivory fan, of exquisite workmanship, lay on a table near. He
+caught it up, and handed it to her. She took it; and to please him,
+opened it, fanning herself gently as she talked.
+
+"I am not ill, Jim; really dear, I am not. I am only strangely happy and
+thankful. It seems too wonderful for our poor earthly hearts to
+understand. And I am a little frightened about the future--but you will
+help me to face that, I know. And I am rather worried about little things
+I have done wrong. It seems foolish--but as soon as I realised Michael
+was coming home, I became conscious of hosts of sins of omission, and I
+scarcely know where to begin to set them right. And the worst of all
+is--Jim! we have lost little Peter's grave! No one seems able to locate
+it. It is so trying of the gardeners; and so wrong of me; because of
+course I ought to have planted it with flowers. And Michael would have
+expected a little marble slab, by now. But I, stupidly, was too ill to
+see to the funeral; and now Anson declares they put him in the
+plantation, and George swears it was in the shrubbery. I have been
+consulting Groatley who always has ideas, and expresses them so well, and
+he says: 'Choose a suitable spot, m' lady; order a handsome tomb; plant
+it with choice flowers; and who's to be the wiser, till the
+resurrection?' Groatley is always resourceful; but of course I never
+deceive Michael. Fancy little Peter rising from the shrubbery, when
+Michael had mourned for years over a marble tomb on the lawn! But it
+really is a great worry. They must all begin digging, and keep on until
+they find something definite. It will be good for the shrubbery and the
+plantation, like the silly old man in the parable--no, I mean fable--who
+pretended he had hidden a treasure. Oh, Jim, don't look so distressed. I
+ought not to pour out all these trivial things to you; but since I have
+known Michael is coming back, my mind seems to have become foolish and
+trivial again. Michael always has that effect upon me; because--though he
+himself is so great and clever--he really thinks trivial and unimportant
+things are a woman's vocation in life. But oh, Jim--Jim Airth--with _you_
+I am always lifted straight to the big things; and our big thing to-day
+is this:--that you never killed Michael. Do you remember telling me how,
+as you lay in your tent recovering from the fever, if some one could have
+come in and told you Michael was alive and well, and that you had not
+killed him after all, you would have given your life for the relief of
+that moment? Well, _I_ am that 'some one,' and _this_ is the 'moment';
+and when first I had the telegram I could think of nothing--absolutely
+nothing, Jim--but what it would be to you."
+
+"What telegram?" gasped Jim Airth. "In heaven's name, Myra, what do you
+mean?"
+
+"Michael's telegram. It lies on the mantelpiece. Read it, Jim."
+
+Jim Airth turned, took up the telegram and drew it from the envelope with
+steady fingers. He still thought Myra was raving.
+
+He read it through, slowly. The wording was unmistakable; but he read it
+through again. As he did so he slightly turned, so that his back was
+toward the couch.
+
+The blow was so stupendous. He could only realise one thing, for the
+moment:--that the woman who watched him read it, must not as yet see his
+face.
+
+She spoke.
+
+"Is it not almost impossible to believe, Jim? Ronald and Billy were
+lunching here, when it came. Billy seemed stunned; but Ronnie was
+delighted. He said he had always believed the first men to rush in had
+been captured, and that no actual proofs of Michael's death had ever been
+found. They never explained to me before, that there had been no funeral.
+I suppose they thought it would seem more horrible. But I never take much
+account of bodies. If it weren't for the burden of having a weird little
+urn about, and wondering what to do with it, I should approve of
+cremation. I sometimes felt I ought to make a pilgrimage to see the
+grave. I knew Michael would have wished it. He sets much store by
+graves--all the Inglebys lie in family vaults. That makes it worse about
+Peter. Ronnie went up to town at once to telegraph out the money. Billy
+went with him. Do you think five hundred is enough? Jim?--Jim! Are you
+not thankful? Do say something, Jim."
+
+Jim Airth put back the telegram upon the mantelpiece. His big hand
+shook.
+
+"What is 'Veritas'?" he asked, without looking round.
+
+"That is our private code, Jim; Michael's and mine. My mother once wired
+to me in Michael's name, and to him in mine--poor mamma often does
+eccentric things, to get her own way--and it made complications, Michael
+was very much annoyed. So we settled always to sign important telegrams
+'Veritas,' which means: 'This is really from me.'"
+
+"Then--your husband--is coming home to you?" said Jim Airth, slowly.
+
+"Yes, Jim," the sweet voice faltered, for the first time, and grew
+tremulous. "Michael is coming home."
+
+Then Jim Airth turned round, and faced her squarely. Myra had never seen
+anything so terrible as his face.
+
+"You are mine," he said; "not his."
+
+Myra looked up at him, in dumb sorrowful appeal. She closed the ivory
+fan, clasping her hands upon it. The unquestioning finality of her
+patient silence, goaded Jim Airth to madness, and let loose the torrent
+of his fierce wild protest against this inevitable--this unrelenting,
+fate.
+
+"You are mine," he said, "not his. Your love is mine! Your body is mine!
+Your whole life is mine! I will not leave you to another man. Ah, I know
+I said we could not marry! I know I said I should go abroad. But you
+would have remained faithful to me; and I, to you. We might have been
+apart; we might have been lonely; we might have been at different ends of
+the earth; but--we should have been each other's. I could have left you
+to loneliness; but, by God, I will not leave you to another!"
+
+Myra rose, moved forward a few steps and stood, leaning her arm upon the
+mantelpiece and looking down upon the bank of ferns and lilies.
+
+"Hush, Jim," she said, gently. "You forget to whom you are speaking."
+
+"I am speaking," cried Jim Airth, in furious desperation, "to the woman I
+have won for my own; and who is mine, and none other's. If it had not
+been for my pride and my folly, we should have been married by
+now--_married_, Myra--and far away. I left you, I know; but--by heaven, I
+may as well tell you all now--it was pride--damnable false pride--that
+drove me away. I always meant to come back. I was waiting for you to
+send; but anyhow I should have come back. Would to God I had done as you
+implored me to do! By now we should have been together--out of reach of
+this cursed telegram,--and far away!"
+
+Myra slowly lifted her eyes and looked at him. He, blinded by pain and
+passion, failed to mark the look, or he might have taken warning. As it
+was, he rushed on, headlong.
+
+Myra, very white, with eyelids lowered, leaned against the mantelpiece;
+slowly furling and unfurling the ivory fan.
+
+"But, darling," urged Jim Airth, "it is not yet too late. Oh, Myra, I
+have loved you so! Our love has been so wonderful. Have I not taught you
+what love is? The poor cold travesty you knew before--_that_ was not
+love! Oh, Myra! you will come away with me, my own beloved? You won't put
+me through the hell of leaving you to another man? Myra, look at me! Say
+you will come."
+
+Then Lady Ingleby slowly closed the fan, grasping it firmly in her right
+hand. She threw back her head, and looked Jim Airth full in the eyes.
+
+"So _this_ is your love," she said. "This is what it means? Then I thank
+God I have hitherto only known the 'cold travesty,' which at least has
+kept me pure, and held me high. What? Would you drag _me_ down to the
+level of the woman you have scorned for a dozen years? And, dragging me
+down, would you also trail, with me, in the mire, the noble name of the
+man whom you have ventured to call friend? My husband may not have given
+me much of those things a woman desires. But he has trusted me with his
+name, and with his honour; he has left me, mistress of his home. When he
+comes back he will find me what he himself made me--mistress of
+Shenstone; he will find me where he left me, awaiting his return. You are
+no longer speaking to a widow, Lord Airth; nor to a woman left desolate.
+You are speaking to Lord Ingleby's wife, and you may as well learn how
+Lord Ingleby's wife guards Lord Ingleby's name, and defends her own
+honour, and his." She lifted her hand swiftly and struck him, with the
+ivory fan, twice across the cheek. "Traitor!" she said, "and coward!
+Leave this house, and never set foot in it again!"
+
+Jim Airth staggered back, his face livid--ashen, his hand involuntarily
+raised to ward off a third blow. Then the furious blood surged back. Two
+crimson streaks marked his cheek. He sprang forward; with a swift
+movement caught the fan from Lady Ingleby's hands, and whirled it above
+his head. His eyes blazed into hers. For a moment she thought he was
+going to strike her. She neither flinched nor moved; only the faintest
+smile curved the corners of her mouth into a scornful question.
+
+Then Jim Airth gripped the fan in both hands; with a twist of his strong
+fingers snapped it in half, the halves into quarters, and again, with
+another wrench, crushed those into a hundred fragments--flung them at her
+feet; and, turning on his heel, left the room, and left the house.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+WHAT BILLY KNEW
+
+
+Ronald and Billy had spoken but little, as they sped to the railway
+station, earlier on that afternoon.
+
+"Rummy go," volunteered Ronald, launching the tentative comment into the
+somewhat oppressive silence.
+
+Billy made no rejoinder.
+
+"Why did you insist on coming with me?" asked Ronald.
+
+"I'm not coming with you," replied Billy laconically.
+
+"Where then, Billy? Why so tragic? Are you going to leap from London
+Bridge? Don't do it Billy-boy! You never had a chance. You were merely a
+nice kid. I'm the chap who might be tragic; and see--I'm going to the
+bank to despatch the wherewithal for bringing the old boy back. Take
+example by my fortitude, Billy."
+
+Billy's explosion, when it came, was so violent, so choice, and so unlike
+Billy, that Ronald relapsed into wondering silence.
+
+But once in the train, locked into an empty first-class smoker, Billy
+turned a white face to his friend.
+
+"Ronnie," he said, "I am going straight to Sir Deryck Brand. He is the
+only man I know, with a head on his shoulders."
+
+"Thank you," said Ronnie. "I suppose I dandle mine on my knee. But why
+this urgent need of a man with his head so uniquely placed?"
+
+"Because," said Billy, "that telegram is a lie."
+
+"Nonsense, Billy! The wish is father to the thought! Oh, shame on you,
+Billy! Poor old Ingleby!"
+
+"It is a lie," repeated Billy, doggedly.
+
+"But look," objected Ronald, unfolding the telegram. "Here you are.
+'_Veritas._' What do you make of that?"
+
+"Veritas be hanged!" said Billy. "It's a lie; and we've got to find out
+what damned rascal has sent it."
+
+"But what possible reason have you to throw doubt on it?" inquired
+Ronald, gravely.
+
+"Oh, confound you!" burst out Billy at last; "_I picked up the pieces!_"
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+A very nervous white-faced young man sat in the green leather armchair in
+Dr. Brand's consulting-room. He had shown the telegram, and jerked out a
+few incoherent sentences; after which Sir Deryck, by means of carefully
+chosen questions, had arrived at the main facts. He now sat at his table
+considering them.
+
+Then, turning in his revolving-chair, he looked steadily at Billy.
+
+"Cathcart," he said, quietly, "what reason have you for being so certain
+of Lord Ingleby's death, and that this telegram is therefore a forgery?"
+
+Billy moistened his lips. "Oh, confound it!" he said. "I picked up the
+pieces!"
+
+"I see," said Sir Deryck; and looked away.
+
+"I have never told a soul," said Billy. "It is not a pretty story. But I
+can give you details, if you like."
+
+"I think you had better give me details," said Sir Deryck, gravely.
+
+So, with white lips, Billy gave them.
+
+The doctor rose, buttoning his coat. Then he poured out a glass of water
+and handed it to Billy.
+
+"Come," he said. "Fortunately I know a very cute detective from our own
+London force who happens just now to be in Cairo. We must go to Scotland
+Yard for his address, and a code. In fact we had better work it through
+them. You have done the right thing, Billy; and done it promptly; but we
+have no time to lose."
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+Twenty-four hours later, the doctor called at Shenstone Park. He had
+telegraphed his train requesting to be met by the motor; and he now asked
+the chauffeur to wait at the door, in order to take him back to the
+station.
+
+"I could only come between trains," he explained to Lady Ingleby, "so you
+must forgive the short notice, and the peremptory tone of my telegram. I
+could not risk missing you. I have something of great importance to
+communicate."
+
+The doctor waited a moment, hardly knowing how to proceed. He had seen
+Myra Ingleby under many varying conditions. He knew her well; and she was
+a woman so invariably true to herself, that he expected to be able to
+foresee exactly how she would act under any given combination of
+circumstances.
+
+In this undreamed of development of Lord Ingleby's return, he anticipated
+finding her gently acquiescent; eagerly ready to resume again the duties
+of wifehood; with no thought of herself, but filled with anxious desire
+in all things to please the man who, with his whims and fancies, his
+foibles and ideas, had for nine months passed completely out of her life.
+Deryck Brand had expected to find Lady Ingleby in the mood of a typical
+April day, sunshine and showers rapidly alternating; whimsical smiles,
+succeeded by ready tears; then, with lashes still wet, gay laughter at
+some mistake of her own, or at incongruous behaviour on the part of her
+devoted but erratic household; speedily followed by pathetic anxiety over
+her own supposed short-comings in view of Lord Ingleby's requirements on
+his return.
+
+Instead of this charming personification of unselfish, inconsequent,
+tender femininity, the doctor found himself confronted by a calm cold
+woman, with hard unseeing eyes; a woman in whom something had died; and
+dying, had slain all the best and truest in her womanhood.
+
+"Another man," was the prompt conclusion at which the doctor arrived; and
+this conclusion, coupled with the exigency of his own pressing
+engagements, brought him without preamble, very promptly to the point.
+
+"Lady Ingleby," he said, "a cruel and heartless wrong has been done you
+by a despicable scoundrel, for whom no retribution would be too severe."
+
+"I am perfectly aware of that," replied Lady Ingleby, calmly; "but I fail
+to understand, Sir Deryck, why you should consider it necessary to come
+down here in order to discuss it."
+
+This most unexpected reply for a moment completely nonplussed the doctor.
+But rapid mental adjustment formed an important part of his professional
+equipment.
+
+"I fear we are speaking at cross-purposes," he said, gently. "Forgive me,
+if I appear to have trespassed upon a subject of which I have no
+knowledge whatever. I am referring to the telegram received by you
+yesterday, which led you to suppose the report of Lord Ingleby's death
+was a mistake, and that he might shortly be returning home."
+
+"My husband is alive," said Lady Ingleby. "He has telegraphed to me from
+Cairo, and I expect him back very soon."
+
+For answer, Deryck Brand drew from his pocket-book two telegrams.
+
+"I am bound to tell you at once, dear Lady Ingleby," he said, "that you
+have been cruelly deceived. The message from Cairo was a heartless fraud,
+designed in order to obtain money. Billy Cathcart had reason to suspect
+its genuineness, and brought it to me. I cabled at once to Cairo, with
+this result."
+
+He laid two telegrams on the table before her.
+
+"The first is a copy of one we sent yesterday to a detective out there.
+The second I received three hours ago. No one--not even Billy--has heard
+of its arrival. I have brought it immediately to you."
+
+Lady Ingleby slowly lifted the paper containing the first message. She
+read it in silence.
+
+  Watch Cook's bank and arrest man personating Lord Ingleby who will
+  call for draft of money. Cable particulars promptly.
+
+The doctor observed her closely as she laid down the first message
+without comment, and took up the second.
+
+  Former valet of Lord Ingleby's arrested. Confesses to despatch of
+  fraudulent telegram. Cable instructions.
+
+Lady Ingleby folded both papers and laid them on the table beside her.
+The calm impassivity of the white face had undergone no change.
+
+"It must have been Walker," she said. "Michael always considered him a
+scamp and shifty; but I delighted in him, because he played the banjo
+quite excellently, and was so useful at parish entertainments. Michael
+took him abroad; but had to dismiss him on landing. He wrote and told me
+the fact, but gave no reasons. Poor Walker! I do not wish him punished,
+because I know Michael would think it was largely my own fault for
+putting banjo-playing before character. If Walker had written me a
+begging letter, I should most likely have sent him the money. I have a
+fatal habit of believing in people, and of wanting everybody to be
+happy."
+
+Then, as if these last words recalled a momentarily forgotten wound, the
+stony apathy returned to voice and face.
+
+"If Michael is not coming back," said Lady Ingleby, "I am indeed alone."
+
+The doctor rose, and stood looking down upon her, perplexed and
+sorrowful.
+
+"Is there not some one who should be told immediately of this change of
+affairs, Lady Ingleby?" he asked, gravely.
+
+"No one," she replied, emphatically. "There is nobody whom it concerns
+intimately, excepting myself. And not many know of the arrival of
+yesterday's news. I wrote to Jane, and I suppose the boys told it at
+Overdene. If by any chance it gets into the papers, we must send a
+contradiction; but no explanation, please. I dislike the publication of
+wrong doing. It only leads to imitation and repetition. Beside, even a
+poor worm of a valet should be shielded if possible from public
+execration. We could not explain the extenuating circumstances."
+
+"I do not suppose the news has become widely known," said the doctor.
+"Your household heard it, of course?"
+
+"Yes," replied Lady Ingleby. "Ah, that reminds me, I must stop operations
+in the shrubbery and plantation. There is no object in little Peter
+having a grave, when his master has none."
+
+This was absolutely unintelligible to the doctor; but at such times he
+never asked unnecessary questions, for his own enlightenment.
+
+"So after all, Sir Deryck," added Lady Ingleby, "Peter was right."
+
+"Yes," said the doctor, "little Peter was not mistaken."
+
+"Had I remembered him, I might have doubted the telegram," remarked Lady
+Ingleby. "What can have aroused Billy's suspicions?"
+
+"Like Peter," said the doctor, "Billy had, from the first, felt very
+sure. Do not mention to him that I told you the doubts originated with
+him. He is a sensitive lad, and the whole thing has greatly distressed
+him."
+
+"Dear Billy," said Lady Ingleby.
+
+The doctor glanced at the clock, and buttoned his coat. He had one minute
+to spare.
+
+"My friend," he said, "a second time I have come as the bearer of evil
+tidings."
+
+"Not evil," replied Myra, in a tone of hopeless sadness. "This is not a
+world to which we could possibly desire the return of one we love."
+
+"There is nothing wrong with the world," said the doctor. "Our individual
+heaven or hell is brought about by our own actions."
+
+"Or by the actions of others," amended Lady Ingleby, bitterly.
+
+"Or by the actions of others," agreed the doctor. "But, even then, we
+cannot be completely happy, unless we are true to our best selves; nor
+wholly miserable, unless to our own ideals we become false. I fear I must
+be off; but I do not like leaving you thus alone."
+
+Lady Ingleby glanced at the clock, rose, and gave him her hand.
+
+"You have been more than kind, Sir Deryck, in coming to me yourself. I
+shall never forget it. And I am expecting Jane Champion--Dalmain, I mean;
+why do one's friends get married?--any minute. She is coming direct from
+town; the phaeton has gone to the station to meet her."
+
+"Good," said the doctor, and clasped her hand with the strong silent
+sympathy of a man who, desiring to help, yet realises himself in the
+presence of a grief he is powerless either to understand or to assuage.
+
+"Good--very good," he said, as he stepped into the motor, remarking to
+the chauffeur: "We have nine minutes; and if we miss the train, I must
+ask you to run me up to town."
+
+And he said it a third time, even more emphatically, when he had
+recovered from his surprise at that which he saw as the motor flew down
+the avenue. For, after passing Lady Ingleby's phaeton returning from the
+station empty excepting for a travelling coat and alligator bag left upon
+the seat, he saw the Honourable Mrs. Dalmain walking slowly beneath the
+trees, in earnest conversation with a very tall man, who carried his hat,
+letting the breeze blow through his thick rumpled hair. Both were too
+preoccupied to notice the motor, but as the man turned his haggard face
+toward his companion, the doctor saw in it the same stony look of
+hopeless despair, which had grieved and baffled him in Lady Ingleby's.
+The two were slowly wending their way toward the house, by a path leading
+down to the terrace.
+
+"Evidently--the man," thought the doctor. "Well, I am glad Jane has him
+in tow. Poor souls! Providence has placed them in wise hands. If faithful
+counsel and honest plain-speaking can avail them anything, they will
+undoubtedly receive both, from our good Jane."
+
+Providence also arranged that the London express was one minute late, and
+the doctor caught it. Whereat the chauffeur rejoiced; for he was "walking
+out" with Her ladyship's maid, whose evening off it chanced to be. The
+all-important events of life are apt to hang upon the happenings of one
+minute.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+MRS. DALMAIN REVIEWS THE SITUATION
+
+
+"So you see, Jane," concluded Lady Ingleby, pathetically, "as Michael is
+not coming back, I am indeed alone."
+
+"Loving Jim Airth as you do--" said Jane Dalmain.
+
+"Did," interposed Lady Ingleby.
+
+"Did, and do," said Jane Dalmain, "you would have been worse than alone
+if Michael had, after all, come back. Oh, Myra! I cannot imagine anything
+more unendurable, than to love one man, and be obliged to live with
+another."
+
+"I should not have allowed myself to go on loving Jim," said Lady
+Ingleby.
+
+"Rubbish!" pronounced Mrs. Dalmain, with forceful decision. "My dear
+Myra, that kind of remark paves the way for the devil, and is one of his
+favourite devices. More good women have been tripped by over-confidence
+in their ability to curb and to control their own affections, than by
+direct temptation to love where love is not lawful. Men are different;
+their temptations are not so subtle. They know exactly to what it will
+lead, if they dally with sentiment. Therefore, if they mean to do the
+right thing in the end, they keep clear of the danger at the beginning.
+We cannot possibly forbid ourselves to go on loving, where love has once
+been allowed to reign supreme. I know you would not, in the first
+instance, have let yourself care for Jim Airth, had you not been free.
+But, once loving him, if so appalling a situation could have arisen as
+the unexpected return of your husband, your only safe and honourable
+course would have been to frankly tell Lord Ingleby: 'I grew to love Jim
+Airth while I believed you dead. I shall always love Jim Airth; but, I
+want before all else to be a good woman and a faithful wife. Trust me to
+be faithful; help me to be good.' Any man, worth his salt, would respond
+to such an appeal."
+
+"And shoot himself?" suggested Lady Ingleby.
+
+"I said 'man,' not 'coward,'" responded Mrs. Dalmain, with fine scorn.
+
+"Jane, you are so strong-minded," murmured Lady Ingleby. "It goes with
+your linen collars, your tailor-made coats, and your big boots. I cannot
+picture myself in a linen collar, nor can I conceive of myself as
+standing before Michael and informing him that I loved Jim!"
+
+Jane Dalmain laughed good-humouredly, plunged her large hands into the
+pockets of her tweed coat, stretched out her serviceable brown boots and
+looked at them.
+
+"If by 'strong-minded' you mean a wholesome dislike to the involving of a
+straightforward situation in a tangle of disingenuous sophistry, I plead
+guilty," she said.
+
+"Oh, don't quote Sir Deryck," retorted Lady Ingleby, crossly. "You ought
+to have married him! I never could understand such an artist, such a
+poet, such an eclectic idealist as Garth Dalmain, falling in love with
+_you_, Jane!"
+
+A sudden light of womanly tenderness illumined Jane's plain face. "The
+wife" looked out from it, in simple unconscious radiance.
+
+"Nor could I," she answered softly. "It took me three years to realise it
+as an indubitable fact."
+
+"I suppose you are very happy," remarked Myra.
+
+Jane was silent. There were shrines in that strong nature too wholly
+sacred to be easily unveiled.
+
+"I remember how I hated the idea, after the accident," said Myra, "of
+your tying yourself to blindness."
+
+"Oh, hush," said Jane Dalmain, quickly. "You tread on sacred ground, and
+you forget to remove your shoes. From the first, the sweetest thing
+between my husband and myself has been that, together, we learned to kiss
+that cross."
+
+"Dear old thing!" said Lady Ingleby, affectionately; "you deserved to be
+happy. All the same I never can understand why you did not marry Deryck
+Brand."
+
+Jane smiled. She could not bring herself to discuss her husband, but she
+was very willing at this critical juncture to divert Lady Ingleby from
+her own troubles by entering into particulars concerning herself and the
+doctor.
+
+"My dear," she said, "Deryck and I were far too much alike ever to have
+dovetailed into marriage. All our points would have met, and our
+differences gaped wide. The qualities which go to the making of a perfect
+friendship by no means always ensure a perfect marriage. There was a time
+when I should have married Deryck had he asked me to do so, simply
+because I implicitly trusted his judgment in all things, and it would
+never have occurred to me to refuse him anything he asked. But it would
+not have resulted in our mutual happiness. Also, at that time, I had no
+idea what love really meant. I no more understood love until--until Garth
+taught me, than you understood it before you met Jim Airth."
+
+"I wish you would not keep on alluding to Jim Airth," said Myra, wearily.
+"I never wish to hear his name again. And I cannot allow you to suppose
+that I should ever have adopted your strong-minded suggestion, and
+admitted to Michael that I loved Jim. I should have done nothing of the
+kind. I should have devoted myself to pleasing Michael in all things, and
+_made myself_--yes, Jane; you need not look amused and incredulous;
+though I _don't_ wear collars and shooting-boots, I _can_ make myself do
+things--I should have made myself forget that there was such a person in
+this world as the Earl of Airth and Monteith."
+
+"Oh spare him that!" laughed Mrs. Dalmain. "Don't call the poor man by
+his titles. If he must be hanged, at least let him hang as plain Jim
+Airth. If one had to be wicked, it would be so infinitely worse to be a
+wicked earl, than wicked in any other walk of life. It savours so
+painfully of the 'penny-dreadful', or the cheap novelette. Also, my dear,
+there is nothing to be gained by discussing a hypothetical situation,
+with which you do not after all find yourself confronted. Mercifully,
+Lord Ingleby is not coming back."
+
+"Mercifully!" exclaimed Lady Ingleby. "Really, Jane, you are crude beyond
+words, and most unsympathetic. You should have heard how tactfully the
+doctor broke it to me, and how kindly he alluded to my loss."
+
+"My dear Myra," said Mrs. Dalmain, "I don't waste sympathy on false
+sentiment. And if Deryck had known you were already engaged to another
+man, instead of devoting to you four hours of his valuable time, he could
+have sent a sixpenny wire: 'Telegram a forgery. Accept heartfelt
+congratulations!'"
+
+"Jane, you are brutal. And seeing that I have just told you the whole
+story of these last weeks, with the cruel heart-breaking finale of
+yesterday, I fail to understand how you can speak of me as engaged to
+another man."
+
+Instantly Jane Dalmain's whole bearing altered. She ceased looking
+quizzically amused, and left off swinging her brown boot. She sat up,
+uncrossed her knees, and leaning her elbows upon them, held out her large
+capable hands to Lady Ingleby. Her noble face, grandly strong and tender,
+in its undeniable plainness, was full of womanly understanding and
+sympathy.
+
+"Ah, my dear," she said, "now we must come to the crux of the whole
+matter. I have merely been playing around the fringe of the subject, in
+order to give you time to recover from the inevitable strain of the long
+and painful recital you have felt it necessary to make, in order that I
+might fully understand your position in all its bearings. The real
+question is this: Are you going to forgive Jim Airth?"
+
+"I must never forgive him," said Lady Ingleby, with finality, "because,
+if I forgave him, I could not let him go."
+
+"Why let him go, when his going leaves your whole life desolate?"
+
+"Because," said Myra, "I feel I could not trust him; and I dare not marry
+a man whom I love as I love Jim Airth, unless I can trust him as
+implicitly as I trust my God. If I loved him less, I would take the risk.
+But I feel, for him, something which I can neither understand nor define;
+only I know that in time it would make him so completely master of me
+that, unless I could trust him absolutely--I should be afraid."
+
+"Is a man never to be trusted again," asked Jane, "because, under sudden
+fierce temptation, he has failed you once?"
+
+"It is not the failing once," said Myra. "It is the light thrown upon the
+whole quality of his love--of that _kind_ of love. The passion of it
+makes it selfish--selfish to the degree of being utterly regardless of
+right and wrong, and careless of the welfare of its unfortunate object.
+My fair name would have been smirched; my honour dragged in the mire; my
+present, blighted; my future, ruined; but what did _he_ care? It was all
+swept aside in the one sentence: 'You are mine, not his. You must come
+away with me.' I cannot trust myself to a love which has no standard of
+right and wrong. We look at it from different points of view. _You_ see
+only the man and his temptation. _I_ knew the priceless treasure of the
+love; therefore the sin against that love seems to me unforgivable."
+
+Mrs. Dalmain looked earnestly at her friend. Her steadfast eyes were
+deeply troubled.
+
+"Myra," she said, "you are absolutely right in your definitions, and
+correct in your conclusions. But your mistake is this. You make no
+allowance for the sudden, desperate, overwhelming nature of the
+temptation before which Jim Airth fell. Remember all that led up to it.
+Think of it, Myra! He stood so alone in the world; no mother, no wife, no
+woman's tenderness. And those ten hard years of worse than loneliness,
+when he fought the horrors of disillusion, the shame of betrayal, the
+bitterness of desertion; the humiliation of the stain upon his noble
+name. Against all this, during ten long years, he struggled; fought a
+manful fight, and overcame. Then--strong, hardened, lonely; a man grown
+to man's full heritage of self-contained independence--he met you, Myra.
+His ideals returned, purified and strengthened by their passage through
+the fire. Love came, now, in such gigantic force, that the pigmy passion
+of early youth was dwarfed and superseded. It seemed a new and untasted
+experience such as he had not dreamed life could contain. Three weeks of
+it, he had; growing in certainty, increasing in richness, every day; yet
+tempered by the patient waiting your pleasure, for eagerly expected
+fulfilment. Then the blow--so terrible to his sensibilities and to his
+manly pride; the horrible knowledge that his own hand had brought loss
+and sorrow to you, whom he would have shielded from the faintest shadow
+of pain. Then his mistake in allowing false pride to come between you.
+Three weeks of growing hunger and regret, followed by your summons, which
+seemed to promise happiness after all; for, remember while _you_ had been
+bringing yourself to acquiesce in his decision as absolutely final, so
+that the news of Lord Ingleby's return meant no loss to you and to him,
+merely the relief of his exculpation, _he_ had been coming round to a
+more reasonable point of view, and realising that, after all, he had not
+lost you. You sent for him, and he came--once more aglow with love and
+certainty--only to hear that he had not only lost you himself, but must
+leave you to another man. Oh Myra! Can you not make allowance for a
+moment of fierce madness? Can you not see that the very strength of the
+man momentarily turned in the wrong direction, brought about his
+downfall? You tell me you called him coward and traitor? You might as
+well have struck him! Such words from your lips must have been worse than
+blows. I admit he deserved them; yet Saint Peter was thrice a coward and
+a traitor, but his Lord, making allowance for a sudden yielding to
+temptation, did not doubt the loyalty of his love, but gave him a chance
+of threefold public confession, and forgave him. If Divine Love could do
+this--oh, Myra, can _you_ let your lover go out into the world again,
+alone, without one word of forgiveness?"
+
+"How do I know he wants my forgiveness, Jane? He left me in a towering
+fury. And how could my forgiveness reach him, even supposing he desired
+it, or I could give it? Where is he now?"
+
+"He left you in despair," said Mrs. Dalmain, "and--he is in the
+library."
+
+Lady Ingleby rose to her feet.
+
+"Jane! Jim Airth in this house! Who admitted him?"
+
+"I did," replied Mrs. Dalmain, coolly. "I smuggled him in. Not a soul saw
+us enter. That was why I sent the carriage on ahead, when we reached the
+park gates. We walked up the avenue, turned down on to the terrace and
+slipped in by the lower door. He has been sitting in the library ever
+since. If you decide not to see him, I can go down and tell him so; he
+can go out as he came in, and none of your household will know he has
+been here. Dear Myra, don't look so distraught. Do sit down again, and
+let us finish our talk.... That is right. You must not be hurried. A
+decision which affects one's whole life, cannot be made in a minute, nor
+even in an hour. Lord Airth does not wish to force an interview, nor do I
+wish to persuade you to grant him one. He will not be surprised if I
+bring him word that you would rather not see him."
+
+"Rather not?" cried Myra, with clasped hands. "Oh Jane, if you could know
+what the mere thought of seeing him means to me, you would not say
+'rather not,' but 'dare not.'"
+
+"Let me tell you how we met," said Mrs. Dalmain, ignoring the last
+remark. "I reached Charing Cross in good time; stopped at the book stall
+for a supply of papers; secured an empty compartment, and settled down to
+a quiet hour. Jim Airth dashed into the station with barely one minute in
+which to take his ticket and reach the train. He tore up the platform, as
+the train began to move; had not time to reach a smoker; wrenched open
+the door of my compartment; jumped in headlong, and sat down upon my
+papers; turned to apologise, and found himself shut in alone for an hour
+with the friend to whom you had written weekly letters from Cornwall, and
+of whom you had apparently told him rather nice things--or, at all events
+things which led him to consider me trustworthy. He recognised me by a
+recent photograph which you had shown him."
+
+"I remember," said Myra. "I kept it in my writing-case. He took it up and
+looked at it several times. I often spoke to him of you."
+
+"He introduced himself with straightforward simplicity," continued Mrs.
+Dalmain, "and then--we neither of us knew quite how it happened--in a few
+minutes we were talking without reserve. I believe he felt frankness with
+me on his part might enable me, in the future, to be a comfort to
+you--you are his one thought; also, that if I interceded, you would
+perhaps grant him that which he came to seek--the opportunity to ask your
+forgiveness. Of course we neither of us had the slightest idea of the
+possibility that yesterday's telegram could be incorrect. He sails for
+America almost immediately, but could not bring himself to leave England
+without having expressed to you his contrition, and obtained your pardon.
+He would have written, but did not feel he ought, for your sake, to run
+the risk of putting explanations on to paper. Also I honestly believe it
+is breaking his heart, poor fellow, to feel that you and he parted
+forever, in anger. His love for you is a very great love, Myra."
+
+"Oh, Jane," cried Lady Ingleby, "I cannot let him go! And yet--I _cannot_
+marry him. I love him with every fibre of my whole being, and yet I
+cannot trust him. Oh, Jane, what shall I do?"
+
+"You must give him a chance," said Mrs. Dalmain, "to retrieve his
+mistake, and to prove himself the man we know him to be. Say to him,
+without explanation, what you have just said to me: that you _cannot let
+him go_; and see how he takes it. Listen, Myra. The unforeseen
+developments of the last few hours have put it into your power to give
+Jim Airth his chance. You must not rob him of it. Years ago, when Garth
+and I were in an apparently hopeless tangle of irretrievable mistake,
+Deryck found us a way out. He said if Garth could go _behind his
+blindness_ and express an opinion which he only could have given while he
+had his sight, the question might be solved. I need not trouble you with
+details, but that was exactly what happened, and our great happiness
+resulted. Now, in your case, Jim Airth must be given the chance to go
+_behind his madness_, regain his own self-respect, and prove himself
+worthy of your trust. Have you told any one of the second telegram from
+Cairo?"
+
+"I saw nobody," said Lady Ingleby, "from the moment Sir Deryck left me,
+until you walked in."
+
+"Very well. Then you, and Deryck, and I, are the only people in England
+who know of it. Jim Airth will have no idea of any change of conditions
+since yesterday. Do you see what that means, Myra?"
+
+Lady Ingleby's pale face flushed. "Oh Jane, I dare not! If he failed
+again----"
+
+"He will not fail," replied Mrs. Dalmain, with decision; "but should he
+do so, he will have proved himself, as you say, unworthy of your trust.
+Then--you can forgive him, and let him go."
+
+"I cannot let him go!" cried Myra. "And yet I cannot marry him, unless he
+is all I have believed him to be."
+
+"Ah, my dear, my dear!" said Mrs. Dalmain, tenderly. "You need to learn a
+lesson about married life. True happiness does not come from marrying an
+idol throned on a pedestal. Before Galatea could wed Pygmalion, she had
+to change from marble into glowing flesh and blood, and step down from
+off her pedestal. Love should not make us blind to one another's faults.
+It should only make us infinitely tender, and completely understanding.
+Let me tell you a shrewd remark of Aunt Georgina's on that subject.
+Speaking to a young married woman who considered herself wronged and
+disillusioned because, the honeymoon over, she discovered her husband not
+to be in all things absolutely perfect: 'Ah, my good girl,' said Aunt
+'Gina, rapping the floor with her ebony cane; 'you made a foolish mistake
+if you imagined you were marrying an angel, when we have it, on the very
+highest authority, that the angels neither marry nor are given in
+marriage. Men and women, who are human enough to marry, are human enough
+to be full of faults; and the best thing marriage provides is that each
+gets somebody who will love, forgive, and understand. If you had waited
+for perfection, you would have reached heaven a spinster, which would
+have been, to say the least of it, dull--when you had had the chance of
+matrimony on earth! Go and make it up with that nice boy of yours, or I
+shall find him some pretty--' But the little bride, her anger dissolving
+in laughter and tears, had fled across the lawn in pursuit of a tall
+figure in tweeds, stalking in solitary dudgeon towards the river. They
+disappeared into the boathouse, and soon after we saw them in a tiny
+skiff for two, and heard their happy laughter. 'Silly babies!' said Aunt
+'Gina, crossly, 'they'll do it once too often, when I'm not there to
+spank them; and then there'll be a shipwreck! Oh, why did Adam marry, and
+spoil that peaceful garden?' Whereat Tommy, the old scarlet macaw, swung
+head downwards from his golden perch, with such shrieks of delighted
+laughter, mingled with appropriate profanity, that Aunt 'Gina's
+good-humour was instantly restored. 'Give him a strawberry, somebody!'
+she said; and spoke no more on things matrimonial."
+
+Myra laughed. "The duchess's views are always refreshing. I wonder
+whether Michael and I made the mistake of not realising each other to be
+human; of not admitting there was anything to forgive, and therefore
+never forgiving?"
+
+"Well, don't make it with Jim Airth," advised Mrs. Dalmain, "for he is
+the most human man I ever met; also the strongest, and one of the most
+lovable. Myra, there is nothing to be gained by waiting. Let me send him
+to you now; and, remember, all he asks or expects is one word of
+forgiveness."
+
+"Oh, Jane!" cried Lady Ingleby, with clasped hands. "Do wait a little
+while. Give me time to think; time to consider; time to decide."
+
+"Nonsense, my dear," said Mrs. Dalmain, "When but one right course lies
+before you, there can be no possible need for hesitation or
+consideration. You are merely nervously postponing the inevitable. You
+remind me of scenes we used to have in the out-patient department of a
+hospital in the East End of London, to which I once went for training.
+When patients came to the surgery for teeth extraction, and the pretty
+sympathetic little nurse in charge had got them safely fixed into the
+chair; as one of the doctors, prompt and alert, came forward with
+unmistakably business-like forceps ready, the terrified patient would
+exclaim: 'Oh, let the nurse do it! Let the nurse do it!' the idea
+evidently being that three or four diffident pulls by the nurse, were
+less alarming than the sharp certainty of _one_ from the doctor. Now, my
+dear Myra, you have to face your ordeal. If it is to be successful there
+must be no uncertainty."
+
+"Oh, Jane, I wish you were not such a decided person. I am sure when
+_you_ were the nurse, the poor things preferred the doctors. I am
+terrified; yet I know you are right. And, oh, you dear, don't leave me!
+See me through."
+
+"I am never away from Garth for a night, as you know," said Mrs. Dalmain.
+"But he and little Geoff went down to Overdene this morning, with Simpson
+and nurse; so, if your man can motor me over during the evening, I will
+stay as long as you need me."
+
+"Ah, thanks," said Lady Ingleby. "And now, Jane, you have done all you
+can for me; and God knows how much that means. I want to be quite alone
+for an hour. I feel I must face it out, and decide what I really intend
+doing. I owe it to Jim, I owe it to myself, to be quite sure what I mean
+to say, before I see him. Order tea in the library. Tell him I will see
+him; and, at the end of the hour, send him here. But, Jane--not a hint of
+anything which has passed between us. I may rely on you?"
+
+"My dear," said Mrs. Dalmain, gently, "I play the game!"
+
+She rose and stood on the hearthrug, looking intently at her husband's
+painting of Lord Ingleby.
+
+"And, Myra," she said at last, "I do entreat you to remember, you are
+dealing with an unknown quantity. You have never before known intimately
+a man of Jim Airth's temperament. His love for you, and yours for him,
+hold elements as yet not fully understood by you. Remember this, in
+drawing your conclusions. I had almost said, Let instinct guide, rather
+than reason."
+
+"I understand your meaning," said Lady Ingleby. "But I dare not depend
+upon either instinct or reason. I have not been a religious woman, Jane,
+as of course you know; but--I have been learning lately; and, as I learn,
+I try to practise. I feel myself to be in so dark and difficult a place,
+that I am trying to say, 'Even _there_ shall Thy hand lead me, and Thy
+right Hand shall hold me.'"
+
+"Ah, you are right," said Jane's deep earnest voice; "that is the best of
+all. God's hand alone leads surely, out of darkness into light."
+
+She put a kind arm firmly around her friend, for a moment.
+
+Then:--"I will send him to you in an hour," she said, and left the room.
+
+Lady Ingleby was alone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+THE TEST
+
+
+The door of Myra's sitting-room opened quietly, and Jim Airth came in.
+
+She awaited him upon the couch, sitting very still, her hands folded in
+her lap.
+
+The room seemed full of flowers, and of soft sunset light.
+
+He closed the door, and came and stood before her.
+
+For a few moments they looked steadily into one another's faces.
+
+Then Jim Airth spoke, very low.
+
+"It is so good of you to see me," he said. "It is almost more than I had
+ventured to hope. I am leaving England in a few hours. It would have been
+hard to go--without this. Now it will be easy."
+
+She lifted her eyes to his, and waited in silence.
+
+"Myra," he said, "can you forgive me?"
+
+"I do not know, Jim," she answered, gently. "I want to be quite honest
+with you, and with myself. If I had cared less, I could have forgiven
+more easily."
+
+"I know," he said. "Oh, Myra, I know. And I would not have you forgive
+lightly, so great a sin against our love. But, dear--if, before I go, you
+could say, 'I understand,' it would mean almost more to me, than if you
+said, 'I forgive.'"
+
+"Jim," said Myra, gently, a tremor of tenderness in her sweet voice, "I
+understand."
+
+He came quite near, and took her hands in his, holding them for a moment,
+with tender reverence.
+
+"Thank you, dear," he said. "You are very good."
+
+He loosed her hands, and again she folded them in her lap. He walked to
+the mantelpiece and stood looking down upon the ferns and lilies.
+
+She marked the stoop of his broad shoulders; the way in which he seemed
+to find it difficult to hold up his head. Where was the proud gay
+carriage of the man who swung along the Cornish cliffs, whistling like a
+blackbird?
+
+"Jim," she said, "understanding fully, of course I forgive fully, if it
+is possible that between you and me, forgiveness should pass. I have been
+thinking it over, since I knew you were in the house, and wondering why I
+feel it so impossible to say, 'I forgive you.' And, Jim--I think it is
+because you and I are so _one_ that there is no room for such a thing as
+forgiveness to pass from me to you, or from you to me. Complete
+comprehension and unfailing love, take the place of what would be
+forgiveness between those who were less to each other."
+
+He lifted his eyes, for a moment, full of a dumb anguish, which wrung her
+heart.
+
+"Myra, I must go," he said, brokenly. "There was so much I had to tell
+you; so much to explain. But all need of this seems swept away by your
+divine tenderness and comprehension. All my life through I shall carry
+with me, deep hidden in my heart, these words of yours. Oh, my dear--my
+dear! Don't speak again! Let them be the last. Only--may I say it?--never
+let thoughts of me, sadden your fair life. I am going to America--a grand
+place for fresh beginnings; a land where one can work, and truly live; a
+land where earnest endeavour meets with fullest success, and where a
+man's energy may have full scope. I want you to think of me, Myra, as
+living, and working, and striving; not going under. But, if ever I feel
+like going under, I shall hear your dear voice singing at my shoulder, in
+the little Cornish church, on the quiet Sabbath evening, in the sunset:
+'Eternal Father, strong to save,' ... And--when I think of you, my
+dear--my dear; I shall know your life is being good and beautiful every
+hour, and that you are happy with--" he lifted his eyes to Lord Ingleby's
+portrait; they dwelt for a moment on the kind quiet face--"with one of
+the best of men," said Jim Airth, bravely
+
+He took a last look at her face. Silent tears stole slowly down it, and
+fell upon her folded hands.
+
+A spasm of anguish shot across Jim Airth's set features.
+
+"Ah, I must go," he said, suddenly. "God keep you, always."
+
+He turned so quickly, that his hand was actually upon the handle of the
+door, before Myra reached him, though she sprang up, and flew across the
+room.
+
+"Jim," she said, breathlessly. "Stop, Jim! Ah, stop! Listen! Wait!--Jim,
+I have always known--I told Jane so--that if I forgave you, I could not
+let you go." She flung her arms around his neck, as he stood gazing at
+her in dumb bewilderment. "Jim, my beloved! I cannot let you go; or, if
+you go, you must take me with you. I cannot live without you, Jim
+Airth!"
+
+For the space of a dozen heart-beats he stood silent, while she hung
+around him; her head upon his breast, her clinging arms about his neck.
+
+Then a cry so terrible burst from him, that Myra's heart stood still.
+
+"Oh, my God," he cried, "this is the worst of all! Have I, in falling,
+dragged _her_ down? Now, indeed am I broken--broken. What was the loss of
+my own pride, my own honour, my own self-esteem, to this? Have I soiled
+her fair whiteness; weakened the noble strength of her sweet purity? Oh,
+not this--my God, not this!"
+
+He lifted his hands to his neck, took hers by the wrists, and forcibly
+drew them down, stepping back a pace, so that she must lift her head.
+
+Then, holding her hands against his breast: "Lady Ingleby," he said,
+"lift your eyes, and look into my face."
+
+Slowly--slowly--Myra lifted her grey eyes. The fire of his held her; she
+felt the strength of him mastering her, as it had often done before. She
+could scarcely see the anguish in his face, so vivid was the blaze of his
+blue eyes.
+
+"Lady Ingleby," he said, and the grip of his hands on hers, tightened.
+"Lady Ingleby--we stood like this together, you and I, on a fast
+narrowing strip of sand. The cruel sea swept up, relentless. A high cliff
+rose in front--our only refuge. I held you thus, and said: 'We must
+climb--or drown.' Do you remember?--I say it now, again. The only
+possible right thing to do is steep and difficult; but we must climb. We
+must mount above our lower selves; away from this narrowing strip of
+dangerous sand; away from this cruel sea of fierce temptation; up to the
+breezy cliff-top, up to the blue above, into the open of honour and right
+and perfect purity. You stood there, until now; you stood there--brave
+and beautiful. I dragged you down--God forgive me, I brought you into
+danger--Hush! listen! You must climb again; you must climb alone; but
+when I am gone, your climbing will be easy. You will soon find yourself
+standing, safe and high, above these treacherous dangerous waters.
+Forgive me, if I seem rough." He forced her gently backwards to the
+couch. "Sit there," he said, "and do not rise, until I have left the
+house. And if ever these moments come back to you, Lady Ingleby,
+remember, the whole blame was mine.... Hush, I tell you; hush! And will
+you loose my hands?"
+
+But Myra clung to those big hands, laughing, and weeping, and striving to
+speak.
+
+"Oh, Jim--my Jim!--you can't leave me to climb alone, because I am all
+your own, and free to be yours and no other man's, and together, thank
+God, we can stand on the cliff-top where His hand has led us.
+Dearest--Jim, dearest--don't pull away from me, because I must cling on,
+until you have read these telegrams. Oh, Jim, read them quickly! ... Sir
+Deryck Brand brought them down from town this afternoon. And oh, forgive
+me that I did not tell you at once.... I wanted you to prove yourself,
+what I knew you to be, faithful, loyal, honourable, brave, the man of all
+men whom I trust; the man who will never fail me in the upward climb,
+until we stand together beneath the blue on the heights of God's eternal
+hills.... Oh, Jim----"
+
+Her voice faltered into silence; for Jim Airth knelt at her feet, his
+head in her lap, his arms flung around her, and he was sobbing as only a
+strong man can sob, when his heart has been strained to breaking point,
+and sudden relief has come.
+
+Myra laid her hands, gently, upon the roughness of his hair. Thus they
+stayed long, without speaking or moving.
+
+And in those sacred minutes Myra learned the lesson which ten years of
+wedded life had failed to teach: that in the strongest man there is,
+sometimes, the eternal child--eager, masterful, dependent, full of
+needs; and that, in every woman's love there must therefore be an
+element of the eternal mother--tender, understanding, patient; wise, yet
+self-surrendering; able to bear; ready to forgive; her strength made
+perfect in weakness.
+
+At length Jim Airth lifted his head.
+
+The last beams of the setting sun, entering through the western window,
+illumined, with a ray of golden glory, the lovely face above him. But he
+saw on it a radiance more bright than the reflected glory of any earthly
+sunset.
+
+"Myra?" he said, awe and wonder in his voice. "Myra? What is it?"
+
+And clasping her hands about his neck as he knelt before her, she drew
+his head to her breast, and answered:
+
+"I have learnt a lesson, my beloved; a lesson only you could teach. And I
+am very happy and thankful, Jim; because I know, that at last, I--even
+I--am ready for wifehood."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+"WHAT SHALL WE WRITE?"
+
+
+The hall at the Moorhead Inn seemed very homelike to Jim Airth and Myra,
+as they stood together looking around it, on their arrival.
+
+Jim had set his heart upon bringing his wife there, on the evening of
+their wedding day. Therefore they had left town immediately after the
+ceremony; dined _en route_, and now stood, as they had so often stood
+before when bidding one another good-night, in the lamp-light, beside the
+marble table.
+
+"Oh, Jim dear," whispered Myra, throwing back her travelling cloak,
+"doesn't it all seem natural? Look at the old clock! Five minutes past
+ten. The Miss Murgatroyds must have gone up, in staid procession, exactly
+four minutes ago. Look at the stag's head! There is the antler, on the
+topmost point of which you always hung your cap."
+
+"Myra----"
+
+"Yes, dear. Oh, I hope the Murgatroyds are still here. Let's look in the
+book.... Yes, see! Here are their names with date of arrival, but none of
+departure. And, oh, dearest, here is 'Jim Airth,' as I first saw it
+written; and look at 'Mrs. O'Mara' just beneath it! How well I remember
+glancing back from the turn of the staircase, seeing you come out and
+read it, and wishing I had written it better. You can set me plenty of
+copies now, Jim."
+
+"Myra!----"
+
+"Yes, dear. Do you know I am going to fly up and unpack. Then I will come
+out to the honeysuckle arbour and sit with you while you smoke. And we
+need not mind being late; because the dear ladies, not knowing we have
+returned, will not all be sleeping with doors ajar. But oh Jim, you
+_must_--however late it is--plump your boots out into the passage, just
+for the fun of making Miss Susannah's heart jump unexpectedly."
+
+"Myra! Oh, I say! My wife----"
+
+"Yes, darling, I know! But I am perfectly certain 'Aunt Ingleby' is
+peeping out of her little office at the end of the passage; also, Polly
+has finished helping Sam place our luggage upstairs, and I can _feel_
+her, hanging over the top banisters! Be patient for just a little while,
+my Jim. Let's put our names in the visitors' book. What shall we write?
+Really we shall be obliged eventually to let them know who you are. Think
+what an excitement for the Miss Murgatroyds. But, just for once, I am
+going to write myself down by the name, of all others, I have most wished
+to bear."
+
+So, smiling gaily up at her husband, then bending over the table to hide
+her happy face from the adoration of his eyes, the newly-made Countess of
+Airth and Monteith took up the pen; and, without pausing to remove her
+glove, wrote in the visitors' book of the Moorhead Inn, in the clear bold
+handwriting peculiarly her own:
+
+Mrs. Jim Airth
+
+----------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+THE MASTER'S VIOLIN
+By MYRTLE REED
+
+A Love Story with a musical atmosphere. A picturesque, old German
+virtuoso is the reverent possessor of a genuine Cremona. He consents to
+take as his pupil a handsome youth who proves to have an aptitude for
+technique, but not the soul of the artist. The youth has led the happy,
+careless life of a modern, well-to-do young American, and he cannot, with
+his meagre past, express the love, the longing, the passion and the
+tragedies of life and its happy phases as can the master who has lived
+life in all its fulness. But a girl comes into his existence, a beautiful
+bit of human driftwood that his aunt had taken into her heart and home;
+and through his passionate love for her, he learns the lessons that life
+has to give--and his soul awakens.
+
+Founded on a fact well known among artists, but not often recognized or
+discussed.
+
+If you have not read "Lavender and Old Lace" by the same author, you have
+a double pleasure in store--for these two books show Myrtle Reed in her
+most delightful, fascinating vein--indeed they may be considered as
+masterpieces of compelling interest.
+
+Ask for complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction
+GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, NEW YORK
+
+----------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+THE PRODIGAL JUDGE
+By VAUGHAN KESTER
+
+This great novel--probably the most popular book in this country
+to-day--is as human as a story from the pen of that great master of
+"immortal laughter and immortal tears," Charles Dickens.
+
+The Prodigal Judge is a shabby outcast, a tavern hanger-on, a genial
+wayfarer who tarries longest where the inn is most hospitable, yet with
+that suavity, that distinctive politeness and that saving grace of humor
+peculiar to the American man. He has his own code of morals--very exalted
+ones--but honors them in the breach rather than in the observance.
+
+Clinging to the Judge closer than a brother, is Solomon Mahaffy--fallible
+and failing like the rest of us, but with a sublime capacity for
+friendship; and closer still, perhaps, clings little Hannibal, a boy
+about whose parentage nothing is known until the end of the story.
+Hannibal is charmed into tolerance of the Judge's picturesque vices,
+while Miss Betty, lovely and capricious, is charmed into placing all her
+affairs, both material and sentimental, in the hands of this delightful
+old vagabond.
+
+The Judge will be a fixed star in the firmament of fictional characters
+as surely as David Harum or Col. Sellers. He is a source of infinite
+delight, while this story of Mr. Roster's is one of the finest examples
+of American literary craftmanship.
+
+Ask for complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction
+GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Mistress of Shenstone, by Florence L. Barclay
+
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