When Stella reëntered the town hall the porter was still sitting at his
desk near the door, but every one else had gone.
"Oh, I hope I have not kept you, Humphreys," Stella said apologetically.
"I had no idea it was so late. I'll be as quick as I can."
"Mr. Travers is still in 'is room," Humphreys admitted gloomily; "'e
came back an hour ago. Gawd knows how long 'e'll be at it. There's been
a tri-bunal and wot not this afternoon. Talk abaht mud in the trenches!
'Alf the gutters of Lunnon 'as been dribbling through this 'ere 'all.
I've asked for an extra char, an', what's more, I mean ter 'ave 'er. War
or no war, I'll 'ave a woman under me."
The surveyor's office was empty. Stella's papers were just as she had
left them, but her whole life lay in between.
She would never copy the surveyor's plans again or do the office
accounts or look through the correspondence. She would not hover in the
drafty passages and listen to the grumbling Humphreys nor stand outside
glass doors and help bewildered fellow-clerks over their blunders before
they went in to face a merciless authority.
She would probably never see green baize again. She tried to fix her
mind on the accounts, but through the columns of figures ran the wind
from the downs. The half-darkened, empty room filled itself with
Amberley.
She tried to imagine her life with Julian. It would be unlike anything
she had lived before; it would require of her all she had to give. The
town hall had not done this. It had taken the outer surfaces of her
mind, her time, and much of her youth: but her inner self had been free.
It was not free now; it had entered that dual communion of love. It was
one with Julian, and yet not one; because she knew that though he filled
every entrance to her heart, though her mind companioned his mind, and
her life rested on him, yet she was still herself. She would be for
Julian the Stella of Amberley, but she would not cease to be the Stella
of the town hall.
She would not part with her experiences; poverty, drudgery, the endless
petty readjustments to the ways of others should belong to her as much
as joy. Privilege should neither hold nor enchain her, and she would
never let anything go.
She would keep her people, her old interests, Mr. Travers, even the
surveyor, if he wished to be kept. Stella mightn't be able to impart
them to Julian, but she could give him all he wanted and still have
something to spare. Julian himself would profit by her alien interests;
he would get tired of a woman who hadn't anything to spare. Stella was
perfectly happy, but she could still see over the verge of her
happiness. Joy had come to her with a shock of surprise which would have
puzzled Julian. He had the strength of attack, which is always startled
when it cannot overcome opposition. Julian never coöperated with
destiny, he always fought it. Sometimes he overcame it; but when it
overcame him, he could not resign himself to defeat. Stella took
unhappiness more easily; in her heart, even now, she believed in it. She
believed that the balance of life is against joy, that destiny and fate
prey upon it, overcloud it, and sometimes destroy it; and she believed
that human beings can readjust this balance. She believed in a success
which is independent of life, an invisible and permanent success.
She did not think of this for herself, it never occurred to her that she
possessed it; but she believed in its existence, and she wanted it, and
sought for it, in every soul she knew. She wanted it most for Julian,
but she did not think it could be got for him to-morrow. She did not
expect to get it for him, though she would have given all she possessed
to help him to obtain it.
She only hoped that he would win it for himself, and that she would not
be a hindrance to his winning it; that was as far as Stella's hopes
carried her before she returned to the accounts.
When she had finished the accounts, she took them to the town clerk's
room.
Mr. Travers was sitting as usual at his desk, but he did not appear to
be writing. Perhaps he was also doing his accounts.
"I'm afraid," Stella said apologetically, "I'm very late with these
papers, Mr. Travers. I was detained longer than I had intended."
"I expected you to be late," said Mr. Travers, quietly. "In fact, I
should not have been surprised if you had not returned at all. It
occurred to me that you might not come back to the town hall again."
"I had to finish my work," said Stella, gently, "and I wanted to see
you; but after this, if you and Mr. Upjohn can find some one else to
take my place, I shall not return. I know I ought not to leave you in
the lurch like this without proper notice; I should have liked to have
given you at least another week to find some one to take my place, but I
am afraid I must leave at once."
"I think I can make a temporary arrangement to tide us over," Mr.
Travers replied thoughtfully. "Your leaving us was bound to be a loss in
any case."
They were silent for a moment. Mr. Travers still sat at his desk, and
Stella stood beside him with the papers in her hand.
"I hope you will not think I took too much upon myself, Miss Waring,"
said Mr. Travers at last, "in going to see Sir Julian Verny this
afternoon. It seemed to me a man's job, if I may say so, and not a
woman's. I thought your sister had done enough in letting you know
herself how gravely she had misunderstood us all; and if I had notified
you of my intention, I feared that you might not have seen your way to
ratify it."
"I am very glad indeed you spared Eurydice," said Stella; "I would not
have let her go to Julian. I would have gone myself; but I am glad I did
not have to do it. You spared us both."
"That," said Mr. Travers, "was what I had intended."
Stella put the papers on the desk; then she said hesitatingly:
"Mr. Travers, may I ask you something?"
"Yes, Miss Waring; I am always at your disposal," replied Mr. Travers,
clearing his throat. "You are not an exacting questioner."
"I hope you will not think me so," said Stella, gently; "but are you
sure--will you be quite happy with Eurydice?"
Mr. Travers met her eyes. She did not think she had ever seen him look
as he looked now; his eyes were off their guard. It was perhaps the only
time in his life when Mr. Travers wished any one to know exactly what
he felt.
"You will remember, Miss Waring," he said, "that I told you once before
that I am a lonely man. I have not won affection from people. I think I
have obtained your sister's regard, and I am proud to have done so. I
suppose, too, that all men have the desire to protect some one. I do not
know much about feelings in general, but I should suppose that the
desire for protection _is_ a masculine instinct?"
Stella nodded. She wished to give Mr. Travers all the instincts that he
wanted, and if he preferred to think them solely masculine, she had not
the least objection.
"I see that you agree with me," said Mr. Travers, with satisfaction,
"and you will therefore be able to understand my point of view. I have a
very real regard for Miss Eurydice. Her work is of great, though
unequal, value, and I should like to see her happy and comfortable and,
if I may say so, safe. I do not think that the life of women who work in
public offices, unless they are peculiarly gifted by nature, is safe. I
may be old-fashioned, Miss Waring, but I still maintain that woman's
sphere is the home."
"I am glad you feel like that about Eurydice," said Stella, softly.
She paused for a moment. She wanted to thank him, but she knew that she
must thank him only for some little thing. The greater things she must
leave entirely alone. He trusted her to do this; he was trusting her
with all he had. She must protect him from her gratitude.
"Before I leave the town hall, Mr. Travers," she said, "I want to thank
you for what I have learned here. That is really one of the reasons I
came back to-night. You have been such a help to me as a business woman.
I am not going to give it up. I shall keep all that you have taught me,
and take it into my new life with me. It has been an education to work
in your office under your rule."
"I am glad you have felt it to be so, Miss Waring," said Mr. Travers,
with grave satisfaction. "I have devoted what talents I possess to the
running of this town hall, under the auspices of the mayor, of course. I
am very much gratified if my methods have been of any service to you.
Our relationship has certainly not been a one-sided benefit. I took
occasion to say to Sir Julian this afternoon that I had never had a more
efficient secretary."
"I am so glad you told Julian that," said Stella, smiling. "My work with
him was only make-believe."
"There is a leniency about your dealings with people," Mr. Travers
continued, ignoring her reference to Julian, "which sometimes needs
restraint, Miss Waring. The world, I fear, cannot be run upon lenient
principles. Nevertheless, in some cases I am not prepared to say that
your system has not got merits of its own. I recognize that personal
leniency modifies certain problems even of business life. I should be
apprehensive of seeing it carried too far; but up to a certain point,"
said Mr. Travers, rising to his feet and holding out his hand to Stella
to close the interview, "I am prepared to accept your theory."
THE END