A lie which is half the truth is even the blackest of lies.
For a lie which is all a lie may be met with and fought outright,
But a lie which is half a truth is a harder matter to fight.
_The Grandmother._
An excited crowd had quickly collected on the beach when the news spread
like wild-fire through the village that the _Swan_ was sailing into the
bay.
The premature arrival of the yacht was almost a disappointment to
William Clapp, Joe Battishill and others, who were rigging up a
triumphal arch in preparation for the morrow.
Elaine's London wedding had been a great downfall to the hopes of the
natives of the Combe; and now they desired to make up for it by
welcoming her in a manner suitable to the triumphs she had achieved.
Leon, leaning against the rail aft, as he had done a year ago, saw the
assemblage of excited people, and a crowd of memories arose within him.
So they had stood, a dark, eager group, on the breezy morning when first
the Valley of Avilion had broken upon his gaze. How calm had been his
mood, then! How serene his horizon! A tranquil peace was his habit of
mind, no storm of passion had come to lash that deep heart of his into
swelling waves.
Since that day all had changed. His whole being had suffered revolution.
How many sensations had successively dominated his soul! Emotion,
excitement, longing, passion, triumph, and reaction.
Yes. It had come. He had realized fully now that the glittering Eden of
his dreams was a _mirage_ on desert sand. It was, he judged, his own
fault from beginning to end. He had started on a wrong tack. He had
begun life all theories and no experience, and one by one his sweet
delusions had suffered shipwreck.
He had married with no practical knowledge of women, their wants and
their ways; for of course he imagined that all women were like Elsa. He
found her unreasonable, exacting, pettish if thwarted, absolutely
unsympathetic, and with a mind incapable of comprehending his. All these
failings he unhesitatingly ascribed to her sex. He believed that he
ought to have been prepared to find her thus merely because she was a
woman.
He was passing through the bitter stage of disillusioning which Claud
had prophesied for him.
This afternoon he was feeling specially unhappy, for Elsa so disliked
the idea of coming to Edge at all that she had been sulky ever since
they embarked. He had been impressed with the conviction that it was
imperative that she should pay a short visit there, as Miss Ellen, who
was failing rapidly, was longing to see her. Accordingly, he had exerted
his naturally strong will and carried her off, and she had been making
him feel it ever since. To add to her vexation, her maid was always ill
on the water; so that Leon was devoutly thankful that the wind had
enabled him to make his cruise shorter than he had anticipated.
As the smiling shores of the lovely bay became distinct, he rose and
went below to the dainty and exquisite little saloon, where his wife was
reclining with a novel.
"Elsa, we are nearly there," he said, "and there is quite a mob
collected to watch our arrival."
"No! really! is there?" she said, sitting up with some appearance of
interest. "I never thought they would think of giving us a reception.
What a pity I did not change my gown! Is it too late?"
"You look perfectly well as you are," he answered, with a sorrowfully
tender gaze at the graceful form in its natty blue serge and coquettish
sailor-hat.
"Oh, that is like you--you never care what I wear! I really think I'll
change. What a bother Mathilde is to be sick like this! But you can hook
my skirt, can't you, Leon?"
"My dear little woman, we shall be on shore in five minutes. You must
come on deck directly. Be quick--I want to see who is there to greet
us."
"How tiresome! Why didn't you remind me that the people would turn out
to look at us?" she complained. "I do hate to feel shabby."
"Elsa! you look perfectly charming! Do you suppose the villagers can
distinguish between the prices of your gowns?" He coaxingly put his arm
round her. "I want to feel proud of my wife," he said. "Put on your best
smile for the people, darling."
In this wise he managed to persuade her into showing herself on deck
just in time. As the _Swan_ drew on gracefully close in shore, a hearty
cheer greeted the young couple as they stood side by side.
"There are Cranmer and his wife, besides dear old Fowler!" cried Leon,
gladly, as he waved his cap. "How pleasant to have Claud here--it seems
so long since I saw him--not since our wedding-day!"
"Humph! You are a civil bridegroom! I am sorry that time has passed so
tediously," said Elsa, in some real and some pretended annoyance. "But
is that really Wynifred Allonby--Cranmer, I mean? How she has improved
in looks! I suppose it is because she is better dressed. Mr. Cranmer
looks well, too."
In a few minutes they were all on shore together, in the midst of
greetings.
As Claud and Percivale joined hands, their eyes met in a long,
searching, mutual inquiry. One moment showed Claud that his friend had
not found perfect happiness. He was changed; he looked older, and the
expression of his eyes and mouth seemed to tell of mental suffering.
Claud's own obvious, radiant content was in sharp contrast.
"Well, Claud, my dear friend, I was astonished, I confess," faltered
Leon. "But I must congratulate you. You look very happy."
"Happy! I should think so. I have my heart's desire," smiled Claud. "The
only times that anything has power to vex me are the moments when she is
out of sight; and I believe they will always be few and far between."
Leon looked earnestly at him.
"That _is_ happiness," he said.
Mr. Fowler and the Cranmers dined at Edge Willoughby.
It was a hot night--so sultry as to suggest the proverbial thunderstorm,
though the sky was clear and starry.
All dinner-time Percivale's sad eyes haunted Wynifred uncomfortably. He
seemed to be studying her own and her husband's entire sympathy with a
wistful appeal, as if wondering how it was that he and Elsa had come so
terribly short of it.
Mrs. Leon Percivale was in her most gracious mood. The public reception
had gratified her, and to trail her new gowns up and down the familiar
corridors of Edge Willoughby, to the awe of Jane Gollop and the rest of
the staff of elderly retainers, was not without its charm. She wore a
dazzling evening toilette, and looked like a beautiful apparition as she
sat between her godfather and Claud in smiling quiescence, talking, as
was her wont, very little.
The company separated early, as was their country fashion,--Wynifred to
walk peacefully home to Lower House with her husband and Mr. Fowler,
through the meadow foot paths.
They went in silence for some distance. Percivale had strolled as far as
the end of the terrace with them, and bidden them good night at the
stile. His tone appeared to have cast a gloom over all three; something
there was in his whole manner which was inexpressibly sad. They felt it
without knowing why. Henry spoke at last.
"Percivale does not look well," he said.
"No; Mabel has several times said so in writing," replied Claud. "She
thinks London life does not suit him. I daresay a cruise will set him
up. That is why she made this suggestion of his fetching her from
Clovelly. I think he seems to like the idea."
"Yes; but Elsa does not care to be left here alone while he goes; so I
am afraid he will have to give it up," returned Mr. Fowler, with a sigh.
Lady Mabel had taken a farm house at Edge for her children and their
governess, and had written to say that, if the _Swan_ was really there,
it would be very delightful to be fetched, and enjoy a cruise round the
Cornish coast. The suggestion had brought a ray of brightness to Leon's
face. To be at sea again, in his beloved _Swan_, was what he relished.
He would like to go; but Elsa did not approve. She declined to accompany
him, and declined to let him go without her.
"I will not go cruising with a sick maid," she said, simply, "and I will
not go cruising without a maid; and I will not be left in this dull
place by myself. So you can't go, Leon."
"I am glad, on the whole, that my wife does not require a maid," said
Claud, with Wyn's hand held closely against his side.
"You make such a charming lady's-maid that I require no other," she
laughed. "Imagine, Mr. Fowler! He can do my hair beautifully. What it is
to have a husband who can turn his hand to anything!"