"There is one person I despise even more than the man himself, and that
is the creature who kept that letter, and sent it to you too late to
prevent the marriage! If it were to be done at all, why could it not
have been done before?"
Her lips curved.
"Yes. It was very cruel. That was another disillusion, Evelyn. I have
always been convinced that Marjorie was the sender. Probably the letter
had been written to her brother, or to some near relation, and in some
way had come into her possession. She behaved very strangely about our
engagement. But I had been her friend--how she could find it in her
heart! If there had been any possibility of doubt I would have gone
straight to her, and demanded the truth, but--what was the use? The
letter was _there_. I should only have brought more suffering upon
myself. She wanted him for herself, and could not forgive me for taking
him away; but if she had come to me at the beginning, when she saw how
things might go, I should have gone away myself and left the coast
clear. Even if it hurt myself, I should have been loyal to another
woman who had _cared first_! Even now I have done my best for her. I
offered, through my lawyers, to make no objection if he chose to free
himself legally. It _could_ be done in America, you know. I explained
that it would make no difference to the settlement. That was made, and
should remain unchanged!"
I looked at her sharply, for the sneer in her voice hurt me more than
the pain.
"Charmion! Forgive me, dearest. You have been cruelly treated, but--
don't be vexed--aren't you in the wrong, too, in feeling so bitter after
all these years?"
To my surprise she assented instantly.
"Oh, yes; very wrong. More wrong than they, perhaps, for I have had so
long to think; and what they did was done on an impulse. Don't think I
excuse myself, Evelyn. I don't! I see quite well how hard and bitter I
am, but--"
"You can't forgive?"
She hesitated, her grey eyes gazing into space.
"What exactly _is_ forgiveness? If by lifting a little finger I could
make him suffer as he has made me, nothing would induce me to do it. If
by lifting a little finger I could bring him happiness and success, I
think--no, I am _sure_ that I would not hesitate. But to purge my heart
of bitterness, that is beyond me! It's always there, deep down, a hard,
hard wall, hiding the light, shutting me out from man--and from God!"
The last words came in a whisper. I knew the effort with which they
were spoken, and sat silent, clinging to her hand. What could I say?
I, with my easy, sunshiny life; how dared I dictate to her great grief.
And yet I knew--I knew only in one way could peace come back.
The remembrance of the Vicar's first sermon came back to my heart like a
breath of fresh air.
"Forgetting the things that are behind!" I said softly. "Couldn't you
try that, Charmion? Forgetting, and--pressing forward! If forgiving
seems beyond you for the moment, couldn't you take the first step?"
For the first time since she entered the room her face lightened into
something like her own natural smile.
"Ah, Evelyn, that's like you! Thank you, dear, for the reminder. That
was the text on our first Sunday here. There is one thing I would like
you to know. _You_ have helped me more than anything else. You
attracted me because you possess to excess the very qualities which I
have lost--trust, faith, overflowing kindliness and love. It has been a
tonic to be with you. There have been times--working in the garden by
your side, seeing all the live green things springing out of darkness--
when I've been happy again, better than happy--_at peace_! But now--
this upheaval--it has renewed it all. Evelyn, do you think she
suspected? Do you think she will talk?"
"I am sure she won't. Absolutely sure. She had not a flickering doubt.
The name is different, you see, and she is too much absorbed in herself
and her own affairs to waste any thought upon us. In a few days they
sail for India."
"Yes." She drew a sigh of relief. "That's good. I'm thankful. It
would have been so hard to be uprooted again. But you can understand,
Evelyn, that for a time--" She rose, stretched herself to her full
height, and threw out her arms restlessly. "The roving fit is on me. I
must be off into the wilds and fight it out by myself."
I had known it was coming--subconsciously had known it for weeks, but it
was hard all the same. We had been so happy, and in six short months my
roots seemed to have gone down surprisingly deep. I hated the idea of
leaving "Pastimes," but I reminded myself that it was only for a time--
only for a time.
"_Of course_" Charmion assured me heartily. "It is August now. We will
make a rendezvous for Christmas. Perhaps I may turn up before that,
like a bad penny, but you may depend on me for Christmas. You--you will
go to your flat, Evelyn?"
I nodded silently. The Pixie scheme had for the moment lost its charm,
but I would not give in.
"Silly one!" murmured Charmion fondly. "You dear goose! Well, good
luck to you. May you make other people as happy as you have made me."