Miggles was buried at Seacliff by her own written request. A letter
addressed to Mr Goring was discovered after her death, in which her
wishes were expressed with the simple candour and consideration for
others which had ever characterised her utterances.
"I wish to be buried here at Seacliff. It will be less trouble than
taking me to town, and I have always loved the little place. I don't
wish money wasted on an elaborate coffin, but I should love all the
flowers which people find it in their hearts to send. I don't wish
any one to wear mourning, or to give up their pleasures or amusements
because of my death. I always loved to see you dear ones happy and
gay, and if I can still see you from the other world, it would grieve
me to see you sad. I want you to go on with your lives in the usual
way, and not think it necessary to mourn for me. But I should like to
be remembered. I hope you will still let me share your lives. Talk
of me sometimes when you are together--not sadly, but quite cheerfully
and happily. Say sometimes, `Miggles would like that!' `Miggles
would say that!' `how Miggles would laugh!' just as if I were in
another room. I may be even nearer, and it seems to me now that even
heaven itself could not make me happy if I saw you sad..."
Mr and Mrs Goring, the two schoolboys, Piers Rendall, his mother, and
Vanna were the chief mourners. Jean was expecting a baby, and had been
somewhat alarmingly delicate during the last months, so that it was
impossible for her to travel to Seacliff, and Robert refused to leave
her even for a day. The little burial-ground lay inland, nearer the
Manor House than the cottage on the cliff, and after the service was
over the mourners returned to lunch with Mrs Rendall.
Piers and Vanna followed slowly after the others until a side gate was
reached leading into the grounds, when Piers produced a key from his
pocket, and, entering, led the way, not towards the house, but down hill
in the direction of the glen, but Vanna stood still in the path, looking
at him with surprised, reproachful eyes.
"_To-day_?"
"To-day! Why not? She is happy; it was her great wish for us that we
should be happy, too. Come!"
He took her hand in his, and she made no attempt to withdraw it. Worn
out as she was with the strain and grief of the last few days, the firm
clasp seemed to bring with it strength and comfort. Hand-in-hand they
descended the sloping path and stood beneath the shelter of the trees.
As on the day of their first visit together, the delicate beauty of
early summer surrounded them on every side. The foliage still retained
the fresh green of springtime, the grass was dotted over with patches of
fragrant violets and anemones, the water of the stream babbled musically
over the mossy stones. As Piers gazed around there was on his face an
expression which Vanna had never seen before--an expression of
exaltation, of almost incredulous content.
"Vanna," he cried breathlessly, "it is _true_! All my life I have
feared and doubted. Even as a child, when my mother taught me at her
knee, the doubts arose in my mind, and the questions. You have wondered
why I never went to church. It would have been a mockery when I could
not believe. I have read, and listened, and discussed; and out of it
all came only more doubt, more confusion. It is my nature to
mistrust--_was_ my nature, till I met you." His hand tightened on hers
with almost painful pressure. "You have taught me the reality of
goodness and truth, and now, through you, this has come--this
revelation. It is true! There is another life. This world is not all.
I have doubted all other evidence, but I cannot doubt what I have
_seen_. They were there, Vanna, close around us, the spirits--the
`angels' of Miggles's sweet old faith! We were too blind to see, but
they were there, and she saw them. That light in her eyes! Can you
ever forget? That was not death--it was life--the coming of life! Oh,
my darling, my darling, what this means to me! A new heaven--a new
earth. The falling of the scales!"
He lifted his quivering face to the sky as though asking forgiveness of
the God whom he had denied; but the woman by his side had no thought at
that moment for anything in heaven or earth but himself. Amazement of
joy following so hard upon grief seemed to sap the last remnant of
strength. She trembled violently, and gripped at Piers's arm. He
turned in alarm, but the face looking up to his was quivering with joy,
not pain.
"Vanna! What is it?"
"You called me--you called me--" She broke off, trembling, shaking,
blushing to the roots of her hair. "_What_ did you call me?"
For a moment he stared bewildered; then remembrance came--the echo of
his own words throbbed in his ear, bringing with them a second
revelation, the revelation of his own heart. He seized her in a grasp
violent in its intensity, and drew her towards him, gazing deep into her
eyes.
"Vanna, my beloved! This too! My love, and yours! A new earth indeed.
The words said themselves, darling; they have lived so long in my heart
that they slipped from my lips before I had realised my wealth. I who
thought I could never love, to have walked into it, step after step,
deliberately, blindly, until I found myself so deep down, so engulfed,
that I could not be free if I would. Vanna, I have only lived since I
knew you. It was you I needed all those empty years: you have given me
life, joy, hope; you must give me the last thing, too--your love! After
this vision I can't live without it. You are mine, Vanna; I can't give
you up." He drew her head to his shoulder and pressed passionate kisses
on her lips, her hair, her white, closed lids, and she clung to him,
forgetting everything in the bliss of certainty, the intoxicating
nearness, the touch of his lips on her own.
"Vanna! Was it _this_ you felt--a foretaste of this joy--when you
walked into your kingdom and read its message? It's in your Happy Land,
my dearest, you have found your love. May it be an omen of the future!
Speak to me!... Tell me in words. I have never heard a woman's lips
speak to me of love."
Vanna looked up at him, a wealth of devotion in the depths of her
eloquent eyes, but her lips trembled over the words:
"What can I say? The words won't come. I was lonely, too, and you are
everything--everything. From the very first day you filled my mind. I
thought it was friendship. When I found out, I struggled, but it was no
use, so I gave in, and let myself love you more and more. It was my
best happiness--the only happiness I could look for. I never ventured
to hope that you could love me."
He laughed, a low, tender laugh, and framing her face between his hands,
lifted it towards his own.
"Was I blind and deaf? Could I see you, and talk to you, and listen to
your praises from far and near, and keep my head? Do you know in the
least what you are like? I'll carry a little mirror in my pocket and
let you see yourself some time when you are animated and happy. I'll
make you admire yourself."
"Have you fallen in love with me for my looks?"
"Partly. Certainly. I love your looks, and I won't have them
depreciated. And with your goodness, and sweetness, and strength, and
your unreasonableness, and temper, and weaknesses--and which I love the
most I really can't say. There's not a bit of you I don't love, or
would have altered if I could."
Vanna shivered. Already the golden moment had passed, and a shadow fell
across her joy. This climax of bliss--what could it be but a presage of
the end? She drew herself away from Piers's encircling arms.
"Ah, what have I done? Piers, what have I done? I have forgotten--we
have both forgotten. I told you my secret that day on the cliff when
you heard me cry. Do you know _why_ I cried? Because Jean had spoken
of a girl in town, with whom she thought you were in love. It tortured
me; I was nearly wild with jealousy and despair. And then you came, and
I blurted it all out. No! it was not noble. I was thinking of myself.
I wanted to get the weight off my mind, that I might enjoy you with an
easy mind. I felt that if you knew the worst, and cared to be with me
after that, the responsibility was yours, not mine; and I tried--I
_tried_ to make you care! I deluded myself, but I know now that I _did_
try. I thought I could not help it, but it was selfish--cowardly. I
should have thought of your good. Piers, I can never be your wife; you
can never marry me. I have only brought fresh trouble. Can you ever
forgive me?"
He smiled at her, and, disregarding the outstretched hands, drew her
back into his arms.
"Forgive you, my best of blessings! For the moment I can think of
nothing but love. My mind isn't big enough to grasp anything beyond
that tremendous fact. The present is ours, darling; be content in that.
We are here together in our Happy Land--you and I. Nothing can rob us
of this hour. If it ended here, this minute, I should still bless God
for His goodness. To know you love me, to hold you here in my arms--
it's worth living for, Vanna. But it's not going to end. Trust to me.
I will go up to town. I will interview the doctor. I will find a way.
You are mine, and all the world shall not keep you from me."
Vanna smiled in his face with happy, love-lit eyes. He was a god in her
eyes, and the gods are omnipotent. If Piers willed a thing it did not
seem possible that he could fail. Reason fled discomfited. She loved,
and was blind.