THE GOLDEN ROAD
After Rees had left the room Iris stood absolutely motionless by the
fire, as if some magic spell was holding her. She was still there when
Amy came up shortly afterwards to tell her she was going to bed. “I am
too tired to write any more letters to-night,” she said, coming up to
her cousin. “Mr. Rees came and told me he had been sent for by Miss
Green. Poor man, they never can leave him one evening in peace, and he
looked so happy here! I suppose he will be there for most of the night
now. Iris, I am most awfully sleepy after not closing my eyes last
night; I really must go to bed at once. Good-night, dear; don’t sit up
late--I don’t know how you have kept awake all this time.”
“I shall go to bed as soon as ever I am really sleepy,” the girl said,
smiling.
Her cousin kissed her affectionately and went off to her room.
When she had gone Iris sank into the chair she had used before, where
the imprint of her slender form still rested on the cushions. How much
there was to think about! How much had taken place during the last two
days! What experiences she had passed through, and how her love for
Justin had grown by leaps and bounds! She had wondered about love
before, been deeply perplexed at the blinding joy his arms brought
her, the almost agonising rapture of his lips. The thought of her
own helplessness had staggered her. But now she ceased to wonder. It
was useless. She could only acquiesce in the forces placing her so
completely in Justin’s power; after all, it was deliciously sweet to
be so absolutely dominated by him. How completely he had conquered!
Love had not only laid cords about her, chaining her; it had entered
her inmost soul, vanquished every emotion, every thought; crept into
every corner of her being, till the smallest nerve, veriest particle
of tissue, was fused with its mighty glow! She had offered him herself
and all she possessed. He had accepted herself, but he had refused the
rest. A cloud passed over her face as she remembered this. However, it
soon lightened; had he not said she might build the house? She would
build it, and how beautiful it should be! She glanced round the room;
this would be nothing to the cosiness with which she would surround
him! How comfortable she would make him; how happy! What delicious
meals she would always have ready for him!
All at once she remembered she knew nothing about housekeeping; and, in
Australia, domestic arrangements were not as they were in London. But
she would send for her maid she had left with Amy’s servants; she was
a most capable woman, and between them they would soon manage to have
everything as she wished. Justin’s home should be the most artistic,
the most delightful and luxurious place money and refined taste could
make it! In such surroundings she would pour her love upon him and
make up to him for all his sad, distressing past. He liked dainty,
beautiful things; his hard life had not destroyed his fastidious taste;
he was warm-hearted and loved the soft touch of clinging arms, cool,
soothing hands playing through his hair; he should have all he cared
for now.
Her face glowed with a splendid rapture as she looked into the flames.
He had refused to give up work, but she would have a very large orchard
laid out; she loved orchards since she had seen the great stretches of
fruit-trees in fertile Tasmanian valleys; it would be quite impossible
for her to manage it herself; Justin would have to come to the rescue
as he always did; he would have to stay at home and help her. She would
see that the orchard was big enough to require that. He would never
allow her to struggle with workmen, and, besides, dealing with them
would occupy his time. Ah, yes, she would soon make life easier for
him! How she looked forward to carrying out her plans and making up to
him what he had missed in the sad, lonely years! His beautiful grey
eyes should be filled with smiles and happy laughter; all melancholy
should be chased from them. There would be no wanting and longing any
more; she would give all he had asked for. She remembered what he had
said that evening and all at once a fine blush suffused her face. She
had never realised that the word “husband” could mean so much till she
had heard him utter it that night. She knew now. She understood what
it implied; the privileges it would grant to the man she should call
by this comprehensive, all-embracing name; privileges small, tender,
close, large, great, stupendous! She stopped, and drew a tremulous
breath; no, she could not think any farther; it was too overwhelming,
too astounding! She could not even allow her thoughts to explore this
region of intimacy. This inmost shrine should be closed against all
intrusion till the time came when Justin was ready to enter it, taking
her with him and locking the door behind them.
Then her mind turned to the unselfish way he had responded to the call
from Miss Green. How good he was, how chivalrous, how tender! He had
left her, given up their blissful evening, to go to a stuffy cottage
and help with a fractious invalid. How bare and cheerless the rooms had
been on her first visit there; but since then many things, bringing
comfort and brightness, had found their way to the gloomy home. The
Greens had learned to love her almost as much as they honoured and
loved Justin. Their eyes brightened when they saw her pass or come in
to talk and read to the sad-faced sufferer. She meant to do much more
for them, would have gladly done it all, at once, but she was afraid of
embarrassing them with too many gifts till they knew her better.
Suddenly the glow died out of her cheeks as she remembered something
Justin had told her on their way home from the moonlit garden. When Mr.
Green had heart attacks he was always given brandy, and her lover had
sorrowfully confessed what it meant to him, sitting in a small room
tainted with the odour of spirits.
While she sat cosily by the fire, was her dear, splendid Justin
fighting with that relentless foe which had threatened to ruin his life?
She could not endure the thought! How was she to help him? Then the
cavern where they had spent the previous night came before her: the
great, brooding darkness, Justin encircled by her arms, while she
prayed desperately that he might be delivered from his cruel enemy.
She had promised to pray till the answer came; there had been no quiet
during the day, but she could pray now. And she did.
She knelt by the big, velvet armchair where her lover had been sitting.
Her lover’s need was imperative; might he not even at this moment be
engaged in a death struggle with the foe which had conquered him times
without number?
* * * * *
Iris prayed till her whole being quivered with the intensity of her
ardent petition. She did not know how long she was on her knees, nor
did she hear a soft knock, the gentle opening and shutting of the door,
and the quiet footsteps of her lover. He stood by the fire gazing at
her superb young form kneeling by the dark chair where he had been
sitting, her head lifted, her upturned profile white with intensity
and passion, sensitive nostrils dilating, mobile lips quivering, the
delicate hands tightly clasped. Her face seemed luminous with a light
shining from within, and her entreating figure was bathed in the
roseate light pouring through the crimson shade.
Involuntarily Justin started, and drew a sharp breath.
She heard him, turned and looked up at him, the unearthly radiance
still shining in her starry eyes. Then a quick smile parted her lips
and she rose blushingly. The man on the hearthrug stood spellbound.
“Iris--Iris!” he murmured.
She came up and laid her hand gently on his sleeve without speaking.
“Iris, were you--praying for--me?” he said huskily.
“Of course,” she replied with sweet candour.
“So it was your prayers that worked--the miracle.”
“Was there a miracle?” she asked eagerly.
“The--the--temptation has--lost its power! It was in that little room
to-night--Mr. Green had a larger dose of spirits than usual and--the
odour was terrible--to me. I was dreading going into the house because
I was tired, and that always makes it harder to--resist. But, though
the fumes and their associations were so strong that they would have
saturated and nearly maddened me another time, this evening they had no
power. I felt them, but somehow they did not seem to penetrate right
into me as they have always done before. They seemed to remain outside,
as if some great power had barred the door to my senses and shut them
completely out. Oh, Iris!” He stopped abruptly, turning his face away.
She caught his hands and pressed them to her heart. “Justin,” she
whispered with deep emotion “isn’t it lovely?”
“Iris, it is wonderful, and your prayers have done it!” There was dewy
splendour in the grey eyes as they turned to her now.
“_God_ did it,” she said, with sweet simplicity. “He alone is
wonderful, Justin; He helps people when He will; and who are we, to
question Him when and why He does not?”
He drew her down on the sofa and for some time they sat talking in
reverent, hushed tones about things sacred, things spiritual, which
had suddenly become absorbingly interesting to them. They talked about
God, His wonderful goodness in listening to their prayers and His great
power to answer them. They spoke of their own carelessness in having
entirely disregarded Him before; they made many plans about the future,
how they could show Him their gratitude, learn to please Him and live
the kind of lives He meant them to live. They made up their minds that
in the future they would specially seek out those who were struggling
and suffering as Justin had struggled and suffered, and make them
understand there was hope even for them. God was waiting to help every
one; He could aid all.
Though Justin was sure that victory was his at last, all the same he
felt that he ought to test himself thoroughly before linking Iris’s
life to his own; so he decided to go to town for a month and there,
amid temptation, prove he could safely live an ordinary life again.
Iris objected strongly at first, but after a time she gave in, as she
thought it would make her lover’s mind easier if he had undergone this
severe test.
They sat talking, the fair head close to the black one, cheek often
pressing cheek, fingers entwined.
“And now, Iris,” said Justin, “I want you to promise me something. If
I keep quite all right in town, will you marry me _as soon as ever I
come back_?”
The girl lowered her head to his firm, strong shoulder. “Oh, Justin, I
should love to,” she whispered with fluttering breath.
“You would really?” he asked happily, drawing her closer.
“You know I would.”
“I am going to have a good talk to your cousin to-morrow, and, if she
thinks it is fair to you, we shall be married as soon as I return.”
She raised her face once more to his. “Justin,” she said, a deep
devotion shining in her eyes, “you have made me happy beyond this
world. My love for you has enabled me to win to the Golden Gates, and
every step onwards can only be taken in the strength of that love.”
He sat gazing at her, his face aglow with adoration. “Dearest one, then
your love will draw me there too--I shall be with you on the Golden
Road.”
“Yes,” she said, her face illumined by the light of her pure soul. “We
shall walk there for the rest of our lives together till we win right
to the dwelling-place of God.”
“May it be so!” said Justin in very low tones. “And, Iris, do you
realise that this is our betrothal night? It has begun on the shining
road.”
“Yes,” she said, pressing closer to him, “from to-night we are each
other’s and--His.”
A few minutes later two figures knelt in the soft, roseate light; they
were clinging to each other, but their souls were turned towards--God,
the Giver of Love.