They were upon Chelsea Embankment in the late dusk of a Saturday
evening in May. A warm and gentle wind stirred the budding trees to
magic utterances. The long, straight line of serried lamps stretched
away to an enchanted bridge which with twinkling lights hung poised
over the misty river. The plash of an oar came languorously up from
the water, and the voices of boys calling. At intervals, couples like
themselves passed by, either silent or conversing in low tones that
seemed to carry inner, inarticulate meanings. As for them, they were
silent; he had not her arm, but they walked close together. He was
deeply and indescribably moved; his heart beat heavily, and when he
looked at her face in the gloom and saw that her eyes were liquid, it
beat yet more heavily; then lay still.
"Let us sit down--shall we?" he said at length, and they turned to an
empty bench under a tree. "What is she thinking?" he wondered, and then
the dominant feeling of the moment possessed him wholly. His ambitions
floated out of sight and were forgotten. He remembered nothing except
the girl by his side, whose maddening bosom rose and fell under his
very gaze. At that moment she belonged to no class; had no virtues, no
faults. All the inessentials of her being were stripped away, and she
was merely a woman, divine, desired, necessary, waiting to be captured.
She sat passive, expectant, the incarnation of the Feminine.
He took her hand and felt it tremble. At the contact a thrill ran about
him, and for a second a delicious faintness robbed him of all strength.
Then with inexplicable rapidity his mind went unerringly back to that
train-journey to William's funeral. He saw the cottage in the fields,
and the young mother, half robed and with sleep in her eyes, standing
at the door. Exquisite vision!
He heard himself speaking,--
"Laura...."
The little hand gave a timorous encouragement.
"Laura ... you are going to marry me."
The intoxicating pressure of her lips on his was answer. Heedless of
publicity, he crushed her against his breast, this palpitating creature
with the serious face. Ah, she could love!
It was done. The great irretrievable moment had gone to join a million
other moments of no significance. He felt triumphant, fiercely
triumphant. His frightful solitude was at an end. One woman was his. A
woman ... his, his own!
See! A tear quivered in her eye.