Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.
[Illustration: "SING," SAID LUKE GREVILLE, AS HE LEANT ON HIS OARS.]
LUKE'S WIFE
BY
EVELYN R. GARRATT.
Author of "Meg of the Heather," "The Cry,"
"Millicent's Freedom," "The Radiant City,"
"A Diamond in the Rough," etc.
Illustrations by FRANCIS M. PARSONS.
IPSWICH: SMITHS, PUBLISHERS, SUITALL.
AND ALL BOOKSELLERS.
1926.
(Copyright.)
SMITHS,
PRINTERS, BOOKBINDERS, AND PUBLISHERS,
SUITALL, IPSWICH.
"Love is not blind, it is an extra eye, which
shows us what is most worthy of regard."
J. M. Barrie.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER
I. MOONLIGHT ON THE SEA
II. THE HOME COMING
III. LUKE'S MOTHER
IV. AN INCAPABLE HOUSEKEEPER
V. TWO POINTS OF VIEW
VI. THE STUDY
VII. RACHEL CONFIDES IN THE BISHOP
VIII. THE BISHOP COMES TO LUNCH
IX. GWEN
X. THE TRAINING BEGINS
XI. THE CHOIR THREATEN TO STRIKE
XII. RACHEL MAKES A MISTAKE
XIII. A BOX OF VIOLETS
XIV. DISAPPOINTMENT
XV. RACHEL'S PEARLS
XVI. THE CHURCH COUNCIL
XVII. LUKE IS DISCOURAGED
XVIII. GAS STOVES VERSUS MOUNTAINS
XIX. GWEN WRITES TO THE BISHOP
XX. NO LADY HEAD OF THE PARISH
XXI. THE BISHOP LOOKS INTO THE KITCHEN
XXII. THE DREAM OF HIS LIFE
XXIII. LUKE SEES HIMSELF
XXIV. FOR LUKE'S SAKE
XXV. THE DISTURBING ELEMENT
XXVI. LUKE TELLS RACHEL ABOUT HIS DREAM
XXVII. RACHEL'S GARDEN PARTY
XXVIII. "THINK OF RACHEL"
XXIX. IN THE LIGHT OF THE MOON
[Illustration]
LUKE'S WIFE.
CHAPTER I.
MOONLIGHT ON THE SEA.
"Sing," said Luke Greville, as he leant on his oars and looked at his
wife sitting in the stern of the boat.
And Rachel sang.
The boat lay almost still in the silver pathway flung by the moon
across the sea. There was scarcely a ripple.
Rachel's voice trembled a little when she began to sing, as a sense of
mystery and wonder enveloped her. The dark sea beyond them; the earnest
face of her husband lit up by the moonlight; the fact that they were
quite alone on the vast waste of water, combined to fill her with awe
and to make her voice a little unsteady for a moment.
Her singing thrilled her husband as he sat listening. His dream had
come true; and this last evening of their honeymoon they were alone on
the sea; in quiet; with God.
Rachel sang; and these were the words that she sang:—
"And love is God, and God is love,
And earth beneath and Heaven above
Are swathed in it and bathed in it;
For every flower of tender grace
Hath God and Love writ on its face,
And silver shining stars on high
Spell Love and God across the sky."
When the last note of her song trembled away across the waters, there
was silence between them while they looked at one another as only those
who love and trust can look. Words were not needed between them. They
were so absolutely united in spirit that outward expression of their
love was unnecessary.
Then Luke took up his oars and rowed vigorously towards land.
"All things must have an end," he said, "even the happiest honeymoon
that was ever spent. I suppose we must go back to our rooms."
"Must we yet? Let us stay out till the last minute. Perhaps we shall
never have such an evening again together, with the moonlight on the
sea."
"We'll come here next year," he answered laughing, "and after a year of
happiness it ought to be better still. Why are you pessimistic?"
Rachel was silent for a moment, then she said, "I'm afraid of your
work."
"Afraid? Why?" He leant towards her in surprise.
"Because I have a feeling that it will take you from me," she answered.
She knew perfectly well by this time that his work was his passion.
The thought of it had at times absorbed him even during their days
of bliss. They had been so happy together, almost like light-hearted
children, but Rachel had noticed the last few days that his parish and
his people were engaging many of his thoughts and that he was getting
a little restless. If his work weighed on his heart even during his
wedding tour, thought Rachel, was there not a fear that it would be
pre-eminent in his thoughts when in the midst of it, to the exclusion
of her?
Luke laughed at her fears, and after a few moments remarked, "There
is only one thing I regret and that is that I am not taking you to a
comfortable Vicarage. I don't mind a small house myself nor did my
mother, but I'm afraid you will feel cramped."
"But they are going to build a vicarage soon," said Rachel.
"They will be a good time about it, I fear. You see the Parish has only
just been divided, so it is not in proper working order yet; besides
which, I think it may be as well for us to live in a small house,
anyway at first. A Vicarage means a certain amount of expenditure not
to mention dilapidations. Nevertheless I am sorry that the home I am
taking you to is not larger. But after all we don't want to live in the
lap of luxury. We are out to fight the great enemy of souls, you and I,
and we can do that as well in a small house as in a large one. Perhaps
better."
"How I wish I were more capable," sighed Rachel; "I don't know anything
at all about Parish work. You ought to have married someone very
different."
Luke laughed.
"It's too late to give me that advice. And let me tell you that I
prefer a wife who comes to the work fresh, rather than one who is
already tired and perhaps discouraged. I said so to my mother."
"I am afraid that your mother would not agree. Did she feel leaving you
very much? And are her rooms close by?" Rachel listened for the answer
rather anxiously.
"She was wonderfully unselfish about leaving the coast clear for you;
but her rooms are not far off. You will soon love her."
"I am sure I shall make no end of mistakes," sighed Rachel, a little
depressed at his answer.
"Don't you know that it has been said that a person who makes no
mistakes makes nothing else?"
"Yes; but—" she paused, then she suddenly changed her mind, saying—
"Let us forget everything for a moment but the moonlight on the sea,
and that we have one another."
Luke rested on his oars and the moon shone down upon their faces alive
with love, as if it blessed them.
[Illustration]