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American Sunday Monthly Magazine Section
have been full summer for the roses which great
bowls were filled with, to have them for most of the
year is one of Hugh’s fads and its windows, the
housekeeper told us as she showed us in, looked full
south. It was perfectly quiet, too, with its bath
room and dressing-room next door, and Letitia in
an equally comfortable apartment across the passage.
“You are next to me, Letitia,” said Hugh, “so
you can feel perfectly safe from burglars and ghosts
in the night t”
We were all so merry all the time, and 1 felt full
of life and returning health, for happiness is a much
greater doctor than ever /Esculapius could have been.
When finally 1 did get down into Hugh’s sitting-
room , at about six o’clock, he was there waitingfor me.
And oh! it looked so comfortable and peaceful,
with all the russet silk curtains drawn and just the
big, softly-shaded lamps and the crackling and glow
ing logs. And close to my sofa, which he had pre
pared for me with soft cushions, was a huge bunch
of deep red roses, giving forth a sweet, fresh scent.
“I would not have white ones to-day, sweetheart,”
Hugh said. “You are too pale yourself. And I am
going to take care of you and
love and worship you until they
are no longer your prototype!”
He was as gentle as the ten-
derest nurse, and made me lie
down and rest, while he sat [beside
me, holding and caressing my
hand, and now and then my hair;
and we talked of all sorts of beau
tiful things, and of our love, and of
our happiness; and, finally, he read
to me in a low voice, and gradu
ally, worn-out with all the excite
ment, I fell into a blissful sleep.
When I woke he was still sit
ting beside me, and his dear face
wore an expression I have never
seen on a human face before: it
showed everything of love and de
votion, and even a reverent awe.
“Guinevere,” he whispered,
“ while you hav e slept, I have been
realizing the value of things.
Darling, I do not think I ever knew
before how much I loved you. And now, for this
little while, I am going to lake every possible shadow
out of your life. I want you to promise me that you
will never let your thoughts go on ahead. I want
you to be as happy as the day is long.”
“Indeed 1 promise, Hugh.”
Then we went up the stairs together to dress for
dinner, and it seemed as if I must have always lived
there—all felt so natural and at peace.
After dinner, Letitia and Hugh and I sat in the
morning-room, because there is a piano in it, and
I wanted to play to them. I felt like that—I wanted
to give forth all the thankfulness of my soul in
beautiful sound. And they both sat in comfortable
chairs and listened in relaxed rest and enjoyment.
I made the music tell them both all of my thoughts,
and once, when 1 glanced over at Letitia, I saw that
her usually bright, merry eyes were gazing into
distance and full of a wistful light. What was she
thinking of, I wonder? Was she feeling that, what
ever the pain it might' bring, love like Hugh and I
have for each other was worth all the triumphs of
the world? Poor, dear Letitia! But each one must
dree his own weird. Hugh’s lids were closed, and
a look of perfect content was on his face. No three
people could be happier together than we three are.
When L was following my sister out of the room,
on the way to bed, Hugh detained me for a second.
“My sweet,” he said. “Now you must sleep and
rest completely, and grow strong here in my house;
and remember, every slightest thing is to be as you
wish, Guinevere—Do you understand exactly what
I mean, darling child?”
And a great, strange quiver came over me, and
I could not meet his eyes as I answered:
“Yes, Hugh.”
Then, with perfect homage, he bent and kissed
my hand.
“My love,” he said, “good night.”
And I left him standing by the fire.
When 1 went down to tea Mr. Northey had
arrived and was conversing with Letitia, and a
sprightly air was over everything. We had the mer
riest possible time, and I was joyous, and laughed,
and made little sallies quite beyond my wont; and
after it, I went with Hugh into his sitting-room to
look for a book, and as I was bending down to get
it out of the book-case, he suddenly seized me in
his arms, while his eyes looked as they had looked
on the river in the moonlight.
“Ah!” he said—and that was all. But his lips
almost burned my lips, and my heart suddenly began
to beat wildly with I know not what, and I struggled
away from him—but it was not from fear. Then I
ran like a fawn, bounding lightly over a footstool
that was near, and out of the door and up to my
room, while his voice called after me in anxiety:
“Guinevere!—”
I cannot imagine what made me do this—human
nature is very strange. I could not make myself
go down again, but sat crouching by my fire, in
some nameless intense excitement, until Parton
came in, when the dressing-gong sounded.
Chapter XVIII
AY I show Mr. Northey the pic
tures in the saloon, Hugh?”
Letitia asked suddenly after
dinner. “We can turn on the
lights as we go through if they
are not lit.” And she rose and
went towards the door, fol
lowed by both of the men.
I played on all the time, my
heart beating now to suffoca
tion almost; and in a minute or
two Hugh returned and, shut
ting the door after him, came
across the room.
He stood beside the piano
silently, looking at me with all
his soul in his eyes, and my
fingers would obey me no
longer, but convulsively
clasped together in my lap.
“ Guinevere—” Hugh said
breathlessly; and then, again,
“Guinevere!”
And something in me stronger than all other
things that have ever touched my life made me rise
and hold out my arms to him.
I wonder if angels in heaven can be any happier
than Hugh and I are. The souls of Adam and Eve
in Paradise could not have been more divinely
exalted or more completely necessary to each
other.
As the days pass, everything takes on a fresh
meaning. The whole essence of life is being revealed
to me through love and—My Lover. We have
been too engaged with each other to take in any out
side circumstance, though, vaguely and gladly,
we have observed that Mr. Northey has amused
Letitia, who has not been bored. We four, for
a whole fortnight, have laughed and ridden, and
been gay together, and all has gone well.
And nothing could be more refined and careful
and protective than is his attitude to me before
people—the servants, and even Letitia and Mr.
Northey. Not by a word or look does he suggest
anything but respectful friendship. There is a great
deal in breeding: it makes all the small things of
life between two people move without jars. I
thought of this definition of a gentleman the other
morning, when some tiny exceptional circumstance
cropped up. “ What is it that makes a man a gentle
man? It is having that instinctive knowledge of
correct behavior and high honor which does not
even require an unwritten law as a guide.” It could
hardly be more exemplified than it is in Hugh.
Letitia and I talked together in her room at night
sometimes; it seems almost as if she were changing
too in this atmosphere of peace and love. She says
she never really knew Hugh before, although they
have been friends for ten years, and that none of
her set would recognize him as he is with us now.
“I said long ago that you were a witch, Guin
evere,” she said. “Do you remember? I said it
in play, but it is true, it would seem, because you
have altered and brought out and completed this
man, who is thirty-six years old, and has been spoilt
and worshipped by women, ruled men, and hunted
wild beasts all his life!”
I laughed my contentment.
“I really believe you were made for one another,
and that neither of you will ever love anyone else,”
she went on meditatively. “It is a thousand pities,
in a case like this, that you cannot marry each other.”
I felt a quiver of pain, the first one that has come.
Letitia saw it, and added hurriedly:
“Well, never mind, pet. After all, you are going
to be happy for three months now, at least—and
that is more than most women get out of life.”
And my will reasserted it self and banished the pain.
Dear old Doctor Burnley came to see me this
morning, and said he was completely taken off his
feet with surprise at my appearance. I was growing
as robust as my sister, and looked like a blooming girl.
“ How right you were, Doctor, to insist upon her
coming up here, weren’t you?” Letitia said inno
cently. “I shall tell the General how clever and
sensible you have been with Mrs. Bohun.”
And the doctor smiled, well pleased to accept this
burden of praise.
One afternoon Hugh had a fall while trying a new
horse over a hurdle—he was not hurt really, but his
temples ached a little. I made him lie on the sofa
and put his head on my breast, while I held, petted
and caressed him as though he had been a tired
baby—Oh! the exquisite tenderness of the memory!
“And to think that before I met you, I was grow
ing callous and cynical about most subjects,” he said;
“and if a thing pleased me, I took it with never a
backward thought. You have been to me like an
angel, Guinevere, gilding everything with your purity
and your sweetness. People have such a strange idea
of that word purity. For some it means a rigid
barren asceticism, and consists merely in the crushing
out of all sex and all warmth. For me it means the
realization of sweet nature in its most elevated mood,
with truth and sympathy exalted and sanctified.”
“Oh! my dear—and have I meant all that to you? ”
I asked.
“You have meant to me everything that a woman
can mean to a man, Guinevere, when she is his
absolute mate.”
And he folded me in his arms.
A new mood has come upon us in London—a more
passionate one. The ridiculous music in the comic
operas even excites some sense. Hugh hates to be
away from me a second, and he says he feels jealous
when we go out and anyone chances to look at me,
or the others of the party monopolize my attention.
We are generally six—with Langthorpe and some
nice woman for him, and a young man for Letitia.
“I want you to come for Easter, darling; it is
the fifteenth of April. My sister will be with me
and her children; and Algernon and Burbridge have
such a high old time together. On the Easter Tues
day I have asked the same people down for the races
and the ball as last year. They are only going to
stay until the end of the week, but for that time,
perhaps you would rather go back to Redwood.
Letitia thought it would be extremely unwise not
to have them for this festivity, as they are always
accustomed to come, and she suggested to me last
night that you should ask old Jack Kaird and her
self and Langthorpe and anyone of the Bohun tribe
you can think of to Redwood and we should com
bine parties. What do you think of this plan? ”
“It seems a good one,” I agreed. “We must get
accustomed to the exigencies and obligations of life,
Hugh: we cannot be in Paradise for ever, can we?—
alas!”
So this was all arranged, and next week I go down
alone to Redwood for a few days, to settle things for
this party, and then move to Minton Dremont
when Algernon returns, which happens to be the
Thursday before Easter; and there we shall stay
until the Tuesday morning, with Lady Morvaine,
going back to Redwood to be in time to receive
Letitia and Langthorpe and our four other guests.
But oh! the joy can never be so great again as were
those short weeks of perfect freedom in Hugh’s
home, with Letitia and Gerald Northey and my
Lover and I—alone!
My room, which I am going back to, has its real
approach from the gallery and the great staircase—
but we never used that way, as we were so cosy, we
four, Letitia and Gerald Northey and My Lover and
And something made me rise and hold out
my arms to him